Adopted
by Zippy Zoe
Summary: Christmas Eve, Harry James Potter, aged 7, loses his parents. He doesn't know he's wizard yet, and he goes to the orphanage. He gets adopted, he has a brilliant so called 'sister'. He doesn't feel welcome. He feels he doesn't belong to the new family. He goes to Hogwarts, and falls in love later...
1. The Death of Lily and James Potter

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. **

It was Christmas Eve. The sounds of carols could be heard from pubs and churches. Bright lights lit up Godric's Hollow. A christmas tree was placed in the plaza, chattering, laughter, could be heard too. The Christmas tree in the town plaza was beautifully decorated, with a giant golden star at the top. The graveyard was silent. Cold, white snow blanketed the city. Lily and James Potter was in their cozy home with their seven-year old son, Harry James Potter. Harry was quite a big boy, he could walk by the time he was three. Harry had jet-black, untidy hair, same as his father. No matter how hard he tried to flatten his hair, it remained the same. Harry was in his favorite green shirt and black pants. Harry knew everything about his lovely parents. What he did not know, is that his parents were a witch and a wizard. Lily Potter, red-haired, was sitting down on an armchair by the fire, with Harry in front of her. James was sitting in the armchair beside Lily. Harry was playing with the present he got for Christmas: a toy train. The train could billow out smoke, and Harry tried to catch the smoke with his hands. Hours later, the sounds of laughter, chattering, carols died. A hooded figure was standing right in front of the Potters' house. The hooded figure's skin was as white as the snow that lay on the ground, and it slowly held out its white hand. Its hand was holding a wand, and the hooded figure turned its head to the left. Lily and James Potter could be seen, playing merrily with their child. _So weak, thinking that they don't need a wand with them at all times, _thought the hooded figure. The hooded figure was the most evil wizard of all time: Lord Voldemort, or as most people call him; You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Honey, I need to go find something," James told his wife. Lily nodded and Voldemort slowly opened the door. The door creaked slightly as it closed back, James heard the creaking sound as he went into the hallway, and turned his head. There stood the most feared evil wizard, and James shouted,"Lily! He's here! Go keep Harry safe! I'll hold him back!" As soon as Lily heard James, she quickly said to Harry,"Dear, we need to go upstairs. Quick." Lily and Harry quickly ran up the stairs and Harry was scared, his heart beating faster with every step he took. He did not know what was going on, it was all confusing. Voldemort raised his and said,"Avada Kedavra!" James Potter fell to the ground, dead, as Lily tried to barricade herself and Harry in a room. _Silly girl, think you can barricade yourself just like that? Silly, silly, silly, _Voldemort thought. Voldemort swept up the stairs and blew open the door, used his wand to throw the things that Lily used to barricade Harry and herself to the side, and said,"Silly girl. Who do you think you're going up against?" Harry, who was behind Lily, heard the cold, high-pitched voice, and was petrified. "No, not Harry! Please! I beg you! Not Harry!" Lily pleaded, blocking Voldemort's way to Harry.

"Move aside, silly girl," Voldemort said coldly. "Not Harry! Please!" she pleaded again. "This is my last warni-" "Please! Take me instead!" He could have just pushed her aside, but thought it'd be better if he just killed her, and said,"Avada Kedavra!" Just like James, she fell to the floor, dead. Harry looked at his mother's motionless body, wondering what happened, tears swelled in his eyes and said,"Mom? Mom? M-Mom?" When there was no answer, he looked back up at that noseless, ugly, horrifying face, and saw the wand. Harry shut his eyes tight, the image of his mother falling to the floor, the horrifying face, the cold, high-pitched, merciless voice, Harry waited for the worst to come when Voldemort said,"Avada Kedavra!" Nothing happened, all Harry could feel was a searing pain at his forehead, but after moments, the pain was gone. He opened his eyes, the figure was gone, but he was still in the same room. _Was it all just a dream? _Harry thought hopefully. When he looked down, he knew there wasn't a chance it was a dream. His mother still lay there, motionless. Harry saw a picture of his Mom and Dad on the dressing table beside him, and looked at it, the picture was moving. Harry picked it up with trembling hands, and carefully smoothed out the picture. It was his parents, sitting together, holding him in their arms, they looked so happy. Harry climbed down the stairs and saw his father at the hallway, new, hot tears trickled down his cheeks. He went into the living room, and picked up his toy train. He took his jacket and scarf, stuffed the toy train and the picture into his pocket, and closed his eyes. He still remembered his mother's voice, the high-pitched, cold, merciless voice and the face, the terrifying face. He shook his head and walked to the neighbor's house. He knocked once. Harry checked his watch, it was half past ten. The neighbor, Mr Kingsley, opened the door. "Yes? May I help you, Harry? And Harry, where did you get that lightning-shaped scar?" Mr Kingsley asked as the door swung open. Little did Harry know, Kingsley was also a wizard. Mr Kingsley always visited the Potters. "Mr K-Kingsley...what scar do you mean?" Harry said. "The one on your forehead." Harry raised a hand to his forehead and felt a scar; Mr Kingsley was right. Harry hugged Mr Kingsley tight after feeling the lightning bolt-shaped scar. "Harry? You alright?" he asked. "N-no. Mr Kingsley, my p-parents a-are...," Harry could not finish the sentence. Kingsley figured it best to let Harry in, and he brought Harry into the living room to sit down on an armchair.

"I'll get tea, Harry." Mr Kingsley said. Harry nodded as Mr Kingsley went into the kitchen to make some warm tea. After minutes, Mr Kingsley came out of the kitchen and into the living room with a tray of sugar cubes, two cups, a teapot in his hands. Mr Kingsley laid the tray onto the table and sat on an armchair across from Harry. He poured tea for Harry and himself. Harry thanked him and added a few sugar cubes, stirred the tea, and sipped a bit. "So, Harry, why are you here?" "A h-hooded figure came i-into the house a-and...he ki-killed my parents...with a-a wand. He h-had no nose, my parents d-died saving m-me. Who i-is he?" Harry said. Mr Kingsley had abruptly put his cup of tea down onto the table and looked horrified when Harry said that the intruder had no nose. "Mr K-Kingsley? Are you alright?" "Yes. Harry, this is very important. What happened after your parents died?" said Kingsley. "He raised the w-wand. He said some kind of words. 'Avada Kedavra', if I re-remember. So he said those words, with the wand pointing at me, my e-eyes were shut tight, then when I-I opened them, he was g-gone," Harry said. Mr Kingsley confirmed it, it was Lord Voldemort. But what Kingsley did not understand, was how Harry could have survived the Killing Curse. "Harry, you could stay here with me," Mr Kingsley offered. "No thanks, Mr Kingsley. I'll just stay at the orphanage," Harry declined politely. Harry was curious as to why Mr Kingsley looked horrified, but he couldn't just ask like that, it would seem rude. Kingsley knew that Voldemort was gone, but he would come back again in the next few years or so. Harry nodded and left. He wrapped the scarf more tightly around his neck as he waved goodbye to Mr Kingsley. He walked to the orphanage in Godric's Hollow, and knocked. The owner, Mrs Jeopardy, opened the door and saw Harry. "Harry. What brings you here?" Mrs Jeopardy, too, was a witch. "My p-parents are dead. They w-were killed by a guy with n-no nose. I al-already told Mr Kingsley," Harry told her. Mrs Jeopardy, too, had the same reaction as Mr Kingsley, and Harry wondered why. Mrs Jeopardy let him in and showed him his room. "There, this will be your new home until someone comes to adopt you. And Harry. I'm sorry for your loss. Lily and James were great people. It's hard for a seven-year old to cope with," Mrs Jeopardy said as Harry nodded. She closed the door softly and Harry lay down on the bed and took out the picture.

Mrs Jeopardy quickly went to the fireplace, took some Floo powder from a jug, stepped into the fireplace and said,"Ministry of Magic." She threw the Floo powder to the ground of the fireplace and she vanished in blue and green flames. She then reappeared at the Ministry of Magic. She got out of the fireplace and saw that Mr Kingsley, too, was there. She approached Kingsley and said,"Kingsley." He wheeled around and said,"Jeopardy. I expect you've heard?" "That Harry's parents died by You-Know-Who? Then, yes." "What? Is that all?" Kingsley asked as they walked to the bench beside the fountain. They sat down and Jeopardy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you don't know. Jeopardy," Kingsley said, grabbing the shoulders of Jeopardy and shaking her as he said,"Harry SURVIVED the Killing Curse." "Wha-? But...how can that be?" Jeopardy said, amazed. "I don't know. But I think he is the boy in the prophecy that we have been trying to figure out in the Department of Mysteries. You know, _on the night when carols are sung, he who survives, shall be the one to destroy all terrors_," Kingsley said. "Oh, be real here, Kingsley. He's ONLY seven! And survive could mean anything! Like surviving those Blast-Ended-Skrewts! Trust me, I sometimes think they're worse than You-Know-Who," Jeopardy said glumly. "Jeopardy, Jeopardy. He survived the Killing Curse! No one has ever done that! I'm pretty sure other people, like that Hagrid in Hogwarts, survived the Blast-Ended-Skrewts! Hell, he even LOVES the Blast-Ended-Skrewts!" Kingsley said. Jeopardy then thought again, _maybe Kingsley's right_. "Plus, You-Know-Who's now gone, but I think he'll be back in the next few years or so," Kingsley said finally. Jeopardy gawped at Kingsley and said,"You're kidding! You-Know-Who's gone?" "No, that's not exactly what I said. He'll be back in the next hundred years or so, so we must be careful. And we might want to tell the Minister about poor James and Lily Potter's death. Let's go, Jeopardy," Kingsley said, standing up and smartening his clothes. They went into the lift and pressed the number ten button. After moments, a cool, electronic voice said,"Minister of Magic's Office. Level ten." The grill gates slid open and Kingsley and Jeopardy walked towards the Minister's door. They knocked once and waited till a voice said,"Come in." They opened the door and closed it softly behind them.

"Cornelius Fudge, sorry to disturb you this late, but Lily and James Potter are dead," Kingsley said. Cornelius Fudge put down the stack of papers he was holding, pushed his small, round glasses up his nose and said,"What? How can that be?" Fudge looked horrified. "By...You-Know-Who. But You-Know-Who's gone now. But he'll be back in the next few years or so," Jeopardy said. "The boy?" Cornelius asked. "Alive. We think Harry might just be the boy in the prophecy," Kingsley said. "Are you MAD, Kingsley and Jeopardy? The boy's only SEVEN!" Fudge said. "Ah, yes, I didn't believe it at first, but then, he SURVIVED THE KILLING CURSE, Minister," Jeopardy said. Fudge knew from those two, the most trustworthy employees, that it was true. Harry James Potter was to defeat Lord Voldemort when he grows up. "Alright then. Send some people from the Ministry to bury the bodies in Godric Hollow's graveyard. Let them be remembered. And Harry might just be called, 'The Boy Who Lived'. Send Rita Skeeter to write something about this for the _Daily Prophet_," Fudge said. Jeopardy and Kingsley bowed and left. They opened the door and closed it again. Then, Jeopardy smacked Kingsley's hand. "TOLD you that he was ONLY SEVEN, even the Minister agrees with me at first," Jeopardy said. "Ah hah, but I won in the end, didn't I?" Kingsley said, grinning. "Oh, forget it." They went to call some people from the Ministry to secure and bury the bodies, no funeral could be held, as people from Godric's Hollow would be interested in how there were dead bodies. No Muggle could see the Potters' house.

Harry lay on the bed, staring at what he had left to remember of his Mom and Dad. Harry got up and walked towards the wooden cupboard and opened it, there were few simple pyjamas and a few simple green shirts. A couple of white pants. Harry stripped and changed into his pyjamas. He took his favorite green shirt and black pants, went out of the room and followed the signs that would lead him to the laundry room. Harry stuffed his shirts into the washing machine and went out of the laundry room. Now he was lost. Jeopardy came back to the orphanage and found Harry looking left and right. "You lost, Harry?" "Yeah, I am," Harry said, embarrassed. Jeopardy led Harry back to his room and said goodnight to each other. Harry lay down on the bed, took his glasses off, put them on the bedside table, took the picture of his family, and looked at it one last time before falling asleep with it in his hands.


	2. Meet The Grangers

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain.**

_Christmas Eve, half past eleven_

Hermione Jean Granger, a witch, Muggle-born, aged seven, sat on her bed, reading a book called _Pride And Prejudice_. Hermione did not know she was a witch, neither does her parents know. Mrs Granger was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Mr Granger sat at the dining table in the kitchen, flipping and skimming through today's newspaper(the newspaper came out early. This is still the same date, Christmas Eve). The headline: A seven-year old boy's parents died today, Chrustmas Eve. It read: _Death, unknown. No scratches, marks, blood, could be seen. Poor seven-year old boy, in Godric's Hollow, has to deal with the death of his parents. Lily and James Potter. Coming from an old friend of theirs and neighbor, Kingsley Pioneer. He said,"Lily and James were great neighbors, they helped me once when I was broke. I'm very sorry for their son. My condolences." Then the thirty-year old Kingsley, sobbed and dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief. No funeral was held for various reasons. The son, is now currently in Godric's Hollow's orphanage, waiting to be adopted. _Mr Granger nearly dropped the newspaper to the floor; they, too, were going to go to Godric's Hollow. They were planning to go tomorrow to visit a relative of theirs, Jane Granger. Mrs Granger had finished cooking dinner and called out from the kitchen,"Hermione, dinner's ready!" Hermione snapped her attention away from the book, closed it, and set it on the bed. She went down the staircase and went into the kitchen. She drew out a chair and sat down as her mother set the dinner onto the dining table. Mr Granger set down the newspaper onto the table and cut some beef roast for himself. Mrs Granger poured some mushroom soup into her bowl and Hermione wasn't having much of an appetite, so she decided to have some mushroom soup, too. Mr Granger swallowed a piece of beef roast and tried to make conversation. "Um...honey, someone's died in Godric's Hollow," Mr Granger said. Hermione set her spoon down with a clink and said,"Who?" "Honey, I don't think we should be saying these stuff in front of our daughter," Mrs Granger said, giving a stern look to her husband. "Mom, I'm not THAT young." "Oh please, you're only SEVEN," her mother said. "Yes! I'm seven! Don't treat me like I'm five!" Hermione said, fuming. "For all we know, they could've died in a gruesome way, and I'm not going to let my daughter have nightmares!" Mrs Granger said. "Actually, their death was unknown," Mr Granger piped in. Hermione looked at her father, interested. Mrs Granger saw Hermione turn her head and then gave her husband a very stern and strict look. "Never mind," Mr Granger said quickly after seeing his wife's look. "Hermione, you're too young. It's really not good to talk about the death of people in front of seven-year olds. It might scare you," Mrs Granger said. "Oh, please, mother! I'm sure I can deal with the death of people! I dealt with it when Aunt Marian died! Her death was unknown too! So don't treat me like...like I'm a five-year old!" Hermione said, standing up. She kicked her chair as she went back up, food left uneaten.

Mr and Mrs Granger was taken aback by their daughter's words. Marian was Hermione's favorite aunt, when Hermione was three, Marian always played with Hermione. Hermione stomped up the staircase and from the kitchen, they could hear her footsteps. Hermione slammed the door and fell onto the bed, facing downwards. Her face was in her pillow, tears soaked the pillow, and after moments, her tears subsided. She sat up, and looked at the luggage she was going to bring to Godric's Hollow. It contained her undergarments, bathroom equipment, scarves, shirts and pants, and some sweaters. She picked up her book she was reading just now and stuffed it into the luggage. She zipped the luggage full of the things she needed for the next day. She stripped and changed into her pajamas. She opened her door slowly and swiftly went to the laundry room without making a sound. She stuffed her dirty clothes into the washing machine and went back into her room. She fell back onto the bed and fell asleep straight away. In the kitchen, Mr Granger said,"Why did you make her mad?" "What? I wasn't the one who brought out the topic," Mrs Granger said. "Okay, okay, sorry honey. Let's not get in a fight. Let's just continue eating and wash up later," Mr Granger said cautiously. "Hey, you were the one who started it first," Mrs Granger mumbled, picking up her spoon and began to drink her soup. After dinner, they washed the dishes, washed up, and went to sleep.

Harry woke up at half past eight in the morning the next day. He was blinded momentarily by the stream of sunlight that shone through the window. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, and the moving picture fell to the floor. Harry reached for his glasses that lay on the bedside table and put them on. It took a while for him to see clearly. He slowly slipped from the covers and got up, and stepped on something. He looked down and quickly picked up the photograph and set it on the bedside table. Harry walked out of the door expecting to see his father and mother greeting him a good morning, but then he remembered they were dead. Harry's eyes swelled with tears but wiped them away and shook his head. Harry walked don the staircase and saw Mrs Jeopardy cooking breakfast for the children in the orphanage. No one else was there. Mrs Jeopardy heard some footsteps and looked up from her cooking. She said,"Morning, Harry. How've you been?" "I'm fine, Mrs Jeopardy. Where's the other children?" Harry said, looking around. "Good to hear. Oh, the others aren't up yet." Harry then saw that the scrambled eggs that Mrs Jeopardy was cooking were becoming burnt, and said,"Um, Mrs Jeopardy?" "Hm?" she said, looking at him. There was no time to explain, Harry dashed to the frying pan and quickly turned off th stove. Mrs Jeopardy was shocked when Harry suddenly dashed towards her and she moved back a step. "Oh, thank you, Harry! I should've been careful," Mrs Jeopardy said. "Oh, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have distracted you. Um...not to be rude, Mrs Jeopardy, but I'm starving, could I have some food?" Harry said. "Oh, of course you can have some." Mrs Jeopardy said as she set a plate of fried egg, bacon and sausages onto the table. Harry sat down on the bench and ate as Mrs Jeopardy continued making more food for the other children in the orphanage that has yet to wake up and eat. After eating, Harry thanked Mrs Jeopardy, went to the laundry room and got his favorite shirt and pants. He took them and went to the showers. He took a bath and changed into his favorite shirt and pants. This time, Harry was not lost. He remembered which way did Mrs Jeopardy made him go. He took a left turn, went straight, a right turn and went straight until the last door. He went inside the room and saw something on the floor which he had not seen before. He neared the object on the floor and picked it up. It was a locket. He picked it up and turned it over to see a letter engraved onto it, the letter 'S'. Harry decided to put it in the drawer and after that, he went to the bed and lay down. He stared at the simple white ceiling. _Will I ever be adopted? I hope so_, Harry thought. After an hour or so, Harry went out and don the staircase. He saw Mrs Jeopardy sitting on a simple wooden chair, looking round at all the kids. Harry approached her and said,"Mrs Jeopardy? Could I like...help with anything?"

Hermione woke up, dazed for a moment. She sat up slowly and looked round at her room. "I guess I'll see you in the next few days or so, room," she said. _Great, I'm talking to my room_, Hermione thought as she got up and stretched. She went to the bathroom and washed up. She changed into her white pants, pink top, and wore a maroon sweater over the pink top. She took her luggage and brought it down the stairs slowly. Mr and Mrs Granger was already in the kitchen, Mr Granger holding the newspaper, as usual, and Mrs Granger preparing for breakfast. "Morning, honey," Mr and Mrs Granger said. Hermione nodded and sat down at the dining table beside her father. Mrs Granger set the food down and they ate their scrumptious breakfast. Hermione was feeling suspicious as to why her mother was acting as though nothing had happened yesterday. She expected her mother to yell at her for being rude. After they ate to their heart's content, they walked out onto the lawn with their luggage, waiting for a taxi. When a taxi had came, they put their luggage into the trunk and Mr Granger sat in the backseat with Hermione while Mrs Granger sat at the front seat with the driver. "Where to?" the taxi driver said. "Godric's Hollow," Mrs Granger said. The driver turned his head to face Mrs Granger and said,"You...sure? No offence, but are you sure you're not...mental? Two people died there yesterday. The poor son." Hermione snapped her attention away from the window and looked at the driver and her mother. "Yes," Mrs Granger said through gritted teeth. The taxi driver shrugged and drove off to Godric's Hollow. Hermione looked out the window, the many people shopping, snow falling, chattering, the sounds of laughter. It seemed like it was yesterday. Christmas Eve. After an hour, they reached Godric's Hollow, the sun up, blocked by clouds, snow on the ground. Hermione looked round. It didn't seem like any people died. The place seemed bright, seemed happy.

Mrs Jeopardy said,"Well, Harry, maybe you could go to the store and buy some bread?" Harry nodded as he took the money Mrs Jeopardy gave him to buy some bread. Harry wore his sweater and scarf as he went out, looking down on the slippery and snowy path. Hermione looked left, she saw a wrecked house. "D-Dad? Why i there a wrecked house?" Hermione said. Her father looked at where Hermione was looking and said,"Dear, are you feeling alright? There's no house there." Hermione looked at her father and shook her head,"But there is!" "There isn't, Hermione. Now let's just go to Aunt Jane's house," Mr Granger said. Hermione closed her eyes and took her luggage. She followed her mother and father when she opened her eyes. She took a final glance at the house and bumped into someone. "Sorry!" someone's voice immediately said. Mr and Mrs Granger turned around and ran to their daughter with their luggage, being careful not to slip on the slippery path. Hermione had fallen to the floor, a bruise on her knee. "You! Look where you're going!" Mrs Granger said to the person who had bumped into Hermione. "S-Sorry, madam," Harry said. Hermione looked up and saw Harry. Hermione said,"I'm so, so, sorr-" "You're sorry?! Dear, he was the one who bumped into you!" Mrs Granger said. "Mom! You didn't see the whole thing! I was taking a final glance at that building," Hermione said after she stood up and pointing to the building which only witches and wizards could see,"when I bumped into this boy. So don't blame him!" Mrs Granger turned to Harry and said,"Sorry for judging you too quickly, boy." "No offence, madam, but I have a name. I'm Harry. I just came to the orphanage yesterday," Harry said. "Hm. Polite young boy, I see," Mr Granger said, smiling at Harry. "And, Hermione, dear, there's no building where you pointed to," Mrs Granger said to Hermione. Harry looked at the ruined house, which was his and his parents house, and said,"There is, madam. It was my parent's house. T-They died yesterday. I'm pretty sure there is a house. Look, the house is all ruined." Hermione looked at Harry, and Mr Granger said,"Oh my. You're the boy? But, Harry, it appears you've gone a bit...not right, like...Hermione. She said there's a ruined house too, but there isn't..."

"Dad! I've not gone bonkers! Neither has Harry! And Mom, he has a name. Like you call me Hermione. He told you that. Let's just go," Hermione said. Harry had not spoken to Hermione, but he just watched as the family walked away and into one of his neighbor's house, Mrs Jane's house. Harry shook his head and ran to the store, being careful not to slip and fall. Harry bought some bread and returned to the orphanage. He gave the bread to Mrs Jeopardy, and Mrs Jeopardy thanked him in return. Harry said it was no need to thank him and ran off to his room.


	3. Finally Adopted

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain.**

Hermione and her parents went into the house and Hermione let go of her luggage and ran towards her aunt to hug her. Jane(the aunt, if you forgot) returned the hug and let go after a moment. Hermione grew close to Aunt Jane after Aunt Marian died. Hermione went back to take her luggage and went up into the room which she always stayed when it was time to visit Aunt Jane. Hermione sat on her bed while downstairs, Mr and Mrs Granger was hugging Jane. "I'll get tea," Jane said. Mr and Mrs Granger settled down at the dining table after putting the luggage into the living room. Jane went into the kitchen and prepared the tea. Not long after, Jane went to the dining table with a tray of a few sugar cubes, cups, spoons, and a kettle, something like what Kingsley did with Harry. Jane set the tray down and sat beside her sister, Mrs Granger. Mrs Granger took a cup and poured herself some tea. She dropped in some sugar cubes, stirred and sipped, like Harry. Mr Granger said softly so as to not let Hermione hear,"So, Jane, someone died yesterday, as I've heard?" Jane had her cup of tea in her hands, the heat of the warm drink warmed her hands. "Y-Yes. Quite sad for their son. I really feel sorry for the loss. And the poor son of theirs, in the orphanage. I hope someone adopts him, I've talked to him a couple times, quite a great fellow. Although, I never even knew where their house were. All I've heard from Mr Kingsley, who was the Potters' 'neighbor', although I see no house beside his, only one house, quite strange if you ask me. Anyway, Kingsley said there wasn't anything, no blood flooded from their body, nothing. It's like...magic," Jane said. "Huh, like he's a great fellow," Mr Granger mumbled as she took a sip of tea. "What did you say, Jean?" Jane said. Jean, or Mrs Granger, if you want to call her that, shook her head and just drank her tea more.

Mr Granger said,"Magic? I mean, I don't have anything against real magic, I would even love it if we're a witch or something, but I don't think it's plausible. And Jane, are you suggesting we should adopt that boy?" "I may be. But it's all up to you, not me. And Mrs Jeopardy, the owner of the orphanage, says that he could be adopted anytime, so don't give up an opportunity like that," Jane said. Mr Granger nodded and put down his cup of tea. "Honey, we'll wash up and go out," Mr Granger said to his wife Mrs Granger nodded, put down her cup of tea, stood up and followed her husband upstairs to wash up. Hermione sat in her room, lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, just like what Harry was doing now. Harry lay on the bed in his room, in the orphanage. _Why did those people say there wasn't a house? There is, I lived there! And their daughter, Hermione, I guess, can see it! Why can Mr Kingsley, Mrs Jeopardy, that Hermione, and me see the house? So why can't anybody else? Who killed my parents? I-I really want to have my revenge. Why didn't the intruder have a nose? I mean, it's not something you see everyday...Mom, Dad, where are you? I missed you guys... Why did you have to leave me_, Harry thought, some tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry now stood up, angrily wiping at his eyes. Harry kicked a chair and the wooden bedside table, angry that his parents left him, without saying a goodbye, even. Hermione also was on the bed, thinking... _Why does Mom think I'm too young? I'm not THAT young, I keep telling her. But NO, she just had to disapprove. And that boy, Harry, if I remember, he saw the house too! I'm not mental! Neither is that boy. I mean, he said he and his parents lived there! HE LIVED THERE! Just...never mind. I wonder why both of us could see it...but not my parents..._, Hermione thought, getting to her feet as she heard her father call out,"Ten minutes and we're going out! And we have a surprise!" Hermione groaned and said to herself,"Oh no...please don't be a bad surprise..."

Hermione got ready and went downstairs ten minute later to see her parents standing at the door with big smiles on their faces. A bit TOO BIG. "Mom...Dad...what's going on?" Hermione said, stopping just on the last step of the stairs. "Nothing, it's just a surprise," they said. "Uh huh...," Hermione said as she slowly walked towards them and walked out with them. Hermione looked around and followed her parents. "Mom, Dad, where ARE we going?" Hermione said suspiciously. Her parents opened the door for her and all of them went in. "Mom, Dad, what're we doing in an orphanage...?" Hermione said. Her parents shrugged their shoulders as they walked towards, whom they assumed, was Mrs Jeopardy. "Mrs Jeopardy...may I adopt someone from your orphanage...?" Mr Granger said. Mrs Jeopardy immediately nodded and said,"Alright, I'll get the children ready and-" "No, we've already made up our minds. And it's Harry," Mr Granger interrupted her. Mrs Jeopardy nodded and went up the stairs and knocked on Harry's door. Harry, who was sitting back on the bed, looked at the wooden door. He slowly rose from the bed, walked towards the door and opened it saying,"Um...yes?" "Harry! Someone wants to adopt you!" Mrs Jeopardy whispered excitedly, as though it was a secret. "Um...who?" Harry asked, still holding the door open. "I'm not sure, haven't asked them yet. But you'll be having a...um...'sister'," Mrs Jeopardy said, making quotations at the word 'sister',"I hope it isn't a bit too much. I know you've gone through a lot, you're scared, it makes you uncomfortable to suddenly be in another family, you wouldn't feel welcome just like that, but-" "Mrs Jeopardy, sorry to interrupt quite a bit of your rambling...but, it's alright, really. I wouldn't feel welcomed, you're right, but they chose to adopt me...," Harry said. Mrs Jeopardy nodded, went downstairs and Harry could hear her telling his soon-to-be parents that he would need a moment. Harry closed the door and took his picture and toy train as he looked round at the room. Downstairs, Hermione was shuffling from side to side behind her parents, looking at the children eating with a pity look on her face. _Such poor young children, parents lost, parents might even abandoned them..._, Hermione thought then shook her head. She then thought, _Who does Mom and Dad want to adopt? If it's that Harry, like Mom would adopt him, I wouldn't really welcome Harry. We've just like...met, and his hair's just kind of untidy_. Harry came down the steps slowly to see...the three people he had seen just now. He saw the same girl, bushy brown hair, her maroon sweater, pants, the Hermione's father, wearing a black shirt with pants; and Hermione's mother was wearing a pink dress.

He went down the last couple of steps as he greeted them,"Madam, sir." Mrs Granger(Jean) was utterly surprised by his politeness; he seemed like he wasn't the boy who had bumped into her daughter, yet, he was the one. "Oh, please, call us Mom and Dad," Mr and Mrs Granger said. Hermione, from behind, saw Harry and groaned in her head. _Why HARRY, of all? _Hermione thought as she looked at Harry's face: he seemed...uncomfortable. "Um, uh...Ma'am, sir, I-I really don't feel like calling you Mom and Dad j-just yet. Sorry...," Harry said, hands in his pockets, twitching. Harry gripped the picture in his pocket as he said that to his 'parents'. "Oh, never you mind. It's alright. Let's go then, shall we?" his 'parents' said, smiling. Harry nodded giving a smile, but it really just looked like a frown. He followed Hermione, his 'parents' out the orphanage door, and as he did so, he looked back to see Mrs Jeopardy waving at him. He waved back and followed them again. "Now, how 'bout we go for food?" Mr Granger said to his wife, daughter and son. "Um...sir, I really don't feel like eating...could I stay at your house? Sorry...It's alright if there's no space in the house, I c-could just sleep on the sofa, if you have one...," Harry said. "Oh, uh...sure. And you don't have to sleep on the sofa, you could sleep in the room with Hermione! There's a spare bed," Mr and Mrs Granger said. Hermione gave a look to her parents as they said that, but they ignored it. Harry nodded and went to the house which he saw them go in earlier. He knocked and the door opened. "Yes? Oh, you must be Harry!" Jean said. "Um..yes. No offence, but...who are you...?" Harry said. "Oh, no, no, no, it's no offence. I'm Jane, an aunt of Hermione. Do come in, come on." She ushered Harry inside and said again after a stretch of silence,"You must be a bit tired. Why don't you take a rest in Hermione's room? It's got a spare bed. Second door on the left." Harry nodded mutely and went up into the room. It was painted green, his favorite color(a coincidence), a chandelier was hanging in the center of the ceiling, the room was tidy, the windows were opened; an empty bed was sitting right beside the window. Harry slowly moved over to the bed beside the windows after he closed the door and sat. The bed's bed sheet beside his was pink, and his(to his surprise) was green. He lay down on the cold bed sheet and put his toy train and picture on a bedside table, checking to see if it was his new sister's or his. He set the pictured and toy train down on the bedside table which he was sure was his.

Hermione looked back at her aunt's house and said to her parents,"Mom, Dad, I'm not hungry too. Can I go home?" They looked at her for a moment, considered, then nodded. She ran to the house, being careful not to slip and knocked. Aunt Jane opened the door, let Hermione in, and closed the door back. Hermione burst into her room and Harry wandered away from his thoughts and came back to reality. He sat up and saw Hermione closing the door. She sat down on her bed and turned to face her new brother. After she finally settled, Harry said,"Sorry, but, please knock before you do come in." "Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said, her voice thick with sarcasm. She crossed her arms over her chest and Harry said,"What do you want, Hermione?" "Oh, so we're on a first name basis, _Harry_. You are _so_ not my brother," Hermione said. "Fine! I really don't feel welcome! At all! I don't want to count you as a sister either! It's difficult losing my parents at seven! Could you please drop the whole sarcasm?!" Harry shouted at her. Hermione recoiled slightly and dropped her arms to her side. She glared at the boy and said,"Fine, I'm sorry." "I know you don't mean it, but okay," Harry said, still glaring at her and feeling a bit angry. Harry lay back down on the bed, staring at the green ceiling as Hermione's eyes fell to his bedside table. Her eyes roamed over the picture of a woman and man, with a baby in their arms; all smiling. Harry resembled so much of the man and Hermione gasped. Harry, who was on the bed, felt a bit irritated at her gasp. Hermione's eyes then roamed over the woman, she had the same piercing green eyes as Harry. she realized it was a picture of Harry's family and gasped once more. "For the love of God, will you stop-" Harry was saying when he looked at Hermione. She was looking at him with a look of...pity? Hermione then shook her head and cleared her throat,"And who are they?" Harry's head turned to where she was pointing: his picture. "I'm pretty sure you know who they are, Hermione." Harry then went back to facing the windows. "And tell me, why is your hair _always _so untidy?" Hermione said stonily. Harry faced her and eyed her. "So is yours. It's all so bushy and it's kind of untidy, you can admit that," Harry replied rather stonily.


	4. Early Morning

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. I want to thank the followers and favoriters(I think there's such a word) and a person that reviewed, Jimmy, I think?**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry(I might get the name wrong), wearing blue long robes, was sitting down in his office chair, reading yesterday's _Daily Prophet. _It surely showed more than the Muggles' newspapers. It read: _Lily and James Potter, who were once students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Their son, Harry James Potter, survived the Killing Curse, according to Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge and his two most trustworthy employees, Mr Kingsley Pioneer and Mrs Jeopardy Clearance. Harry James Potter is now being called 'The Boy Who Lived' in the wizarding world, Mrs Jeopardy Clearance, who is also an owner of an orphanage in Godric's Hollow, said that Harry came to stay in the orphanage till he's adopted. I really would like to meet that fabulous, famous young seven-year old Harry. Such pity. - Written by Rita Skeeter _

_Ah, just like how Skeeter would write. Harry is now in a good family, yet he feels unwelcomed, Lily and James were great students, and even more great adults with good hearts. James always was a troublesome boy, but he was good in studies and smart. Lily was a smart and sweet girl. Harry James Potter, just as I suspected when he showed up on my doorstep when Lily and James had to go overseas, they couldn't bring young Harry along, they were scared the Voldemort would catch young Harry. He was safe under my care, and was sent back to Lily and James after they came back to Godric's Hollow. He'd be the one to fight Voldemort, The Boy Who Lived as people now call him in the wizarding world. Only one can survive, while the other one dies. I will tell the young Harry when it is time_, Albus Dumbledore thought as he put down the newspaper and pushed up his blue half-moon spectacles.

"You didn't answer my question," Hermione said, red creeping at her face as she folded her arms in front of her chest. "You're not my sister, why should I tell you?" Harry said back, imitating Hermione, except without the red creeping at his face. "Stop acting smart, Harry," Hermione said, looking into Harry's piercing emerald eyes. "I'm not acting smart, it's really just the plain truth." Hermione looked a bit offended at Harry's statement, but also figured it was true but shook her head. "Yeah, maybe it's a bit bushy, but yours really is _very _untidy," Hermione quipped back to Harry. Harry smirked a tiny bit and looked out the window; the stars were up and the sun was down. Harry guessed they've been criticizing so much they didn't notice and Harry faced Hermione with a serious look. "Good night." Harry then got up and took a few pajamas(he took some from the orphanage, forgot to add that in, and it could be folded into _really _small squares, imagine that) out from his pocket. Hermione sat at her bed and looked out the window: it was night. Hermione's eyes then followed Harry as he began taking his jacket off. Harry looked at Hermione seriously and said,"A little privacy, Hermione?" "What? Oh, uh-" Hermione scrambled around on her bed and finally after a few minutes of scrambling and Harry looking at her astonished, she closed her eyes. Hermione was pink in the face as Harry stared at her, changing into his pajamas. Harry lay back down on his bed silently and Hermione remained on the bed with her eyes still shut tight. "Done." Hermione opened her eyes, saw Harry already on the bed, and a bit of anger swelled inside of her. Hermione shook her head and smirked a bit as she saw Harry's spectacles on his bedside table, his eyes closed, his chest heaving with every breath. Hermione changed and slipped under her covers. Hermione slept soundly after a few minutes. Next day, at dawn, Harry woke up, the sun was still at the horizon, and Harry slipped from under his covers. Everything was silent except for Hermione's breathing, he looked at his new 'sister'. He still didn't feel welcome with that Hermione. He didn't feel like he...belonged. He wouldn't call Hermione his sister. Neither would he call Mr and Mrs Granger his parents. Harry then got up and looked at the dressing table mirror. The scar, the lightning-shaped scar, could be seen at the left side of his forehead, under his now quite long fringe. It'd been months, actually, ever since he last cut his hair, Mom and Dad, before they died, never really took him to get a haircut. His Dad always liked how he followed his hair: jet-black, untidy hair. Harry reached out an arm and touched the scar, it was received on the day when that...intruder attacked and k-killed his p-parents...Harry shook his head as hot tears flowed from his emerald eyes that Hermione, the day before, stared into. Harry then suddenly saw a flash of a place and came back to reality. What happened? He didn't know. Harry was still in the same room. Harry shook his head and told himself it was just his imagination. Harry's birthday wasn't until next year, 9 February. Harry turned round on the spot when he heard some mumbling: it was Hermione. She was curled up in a ball on the bed, mumbling, her face was contorted in fear and pain. Harry slowly advanced towards her, and with a thud, Hermione fell to the floor. To Harry's surprise, she didn't even stir; she still continued mumbling, and her face still showed the same expressions. Harry sat down crossed-leg on the floor beside the sleeping Hermione, being careful not to trod on Hermione's different body parts. Harry was about to see if she was alright when she suddenly screamed,"No, not my parents!" Harry quickly muffled her by covering her mouth with his hand.

Luckily, Mr and Mrs Granger was in their bedroom, sleeping too soundly to stir from their sleep. Mrs Jane(the aunt) was in her bedroom sleeping too soundly, just like his 'parents'. Harry did not lift his hand away from the still screaming Hermione's mouth; he didn't want anybody to hear her screaming so loudly. Harry poked her hard at the side with a finger and Hermione sat up quickly. Beads of cool perspiration could be seen on her neck, face, and even her hands were clammy and sweaty. Hermione's face showed fear, her eyes wide, and Harry looked at her skeptically. Hermione finally calmed down, her eyes were at normal size, yet her hands were still wet with cold perspiration and clammy. "Um...Hermione, you alright?" Harry asked tenderly, yet he still didn't feel like calling Hermione his sister. He didn't have one, never had. He was the only child, James and Lily were his parents, no other could be. Not Mr and Mrs Granger, yet they seem nice. The photo, the toy train, and the _scar_, the _scar_, were the only remains, the only things that would remind him of the intruder and and it killing his parents. The memory of his father and mother...gone, all _gone_. Toy trains, a photo, and an effing _scar _isn't going to be a good enough memory of his real parents. Harry was brought back to reality when Hermione finally spoke, her voice shaky,"Um...y-yeah. Just a nightmare, I guess..." "Really? You seemed, really afraid. Your parents, what happened?" Harry said after a moment or two of staring into space. "Oh, _please_, Harry! They're your parents too." Harry shook his head vigorously and said to her, face serious,"_No_. Your parents aren't my parents. My parents are dead. Lily and James Potter," Harry swept some of his hair that blocked his vision to the side, allowing the scar to be seen clearly by Hermione,"and I don't know who killed them. All I know is that...he, or she, or that _thing_ is gone. It..it disappeared after it tried to kill m-me." Hermione stared at the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and Hermione said,"What's that scar, then? When did you get it? _How_ did you get it? How come I didn't see it the day before?" Harry quickly covered his scar and said,"Well, _maybe_ you were too busy criticizing me to realize that I had a scar. I got it the day my parents died, the time when that intruder tried to kill me, with a wand, I think, _right_ after he killed my mother before my very eyes and stepped over her corpse, like she was n-nothing. I didn't know how I got it, he tried to kill me by using a _spell_, I think, then, he just...materialized. I dunno." Hermione was at a lost of words; Harry was right, she was criticizing him for too many things. The room remained silent and Harry said,"So, uh, what happened? In your dream." "Huh? Oh, uh-well, it wasn't a dream, technically. All I heard was a voice, a merciless, cold, high-pitched voice. Then I suddenly saw a flash of green light, and my dream...it changed scenes. It changed to my parents on the floor, motionless. T-That's it," Hermione said, pure fear on her face. Harry's expression came from stony to pity. "Hermione, you don't suppose-? You don't suppose that, that high-pitched voice, was from the same intruder that k-killed my parents?" "I...I don't know, Harry. We're only seven, our brains aren't as good as adults," Hermione replied. Harry looked at Hermione full in the face, his expression blank. He saw Hermione's brown eyes, her bushy brown hair, her pajamas, pink in color. Hermione's brown eyes, pierced into his emerald ones. Harry's round glasses still lay on the bedside table; at least Harry could see a bit far. Hermione's eyebrows were arched as Harry continued looking at her.

Harry, for the first time, took in how pretty she actually was, then, he shook his head. The connection of their eyes staring into each other broke. Harry looked out at the window: the sun was _still_ at the horizon. It was like time seemed to slow down in the room they were in. Harry stood up, walked towards the direction of the window, and sat back down, admiring the sun, the orange glow that the sun made. Hermione shook her head and looked at the spot where had once been Harry crouching at: beside her. Hermione got up swiftly and went beside Harry and sat. Hermione didn't really like Harry, but she pitied him. "H-Harry?" Hermione said as she cautiously put a hand on his knee. Harry jerked her hand away from his knee and moved a bit further away from Hermione. "J-Just get away, H-Hermione," Harry said, knees brought to his chest, his arms cradling his knees, fixing Hermione a glare. "N-No, Harry," Hermione moved slowly towards Harry,"No. What's wrong, Harry?" "_I said, get away,_" Harry said through gritted teeth, some tears already clouding his vision as he looked at Hermione. Hermione shook her head and put a hand on his shoulder tentatively. "_Hermione, I'm warning you. Get away before I get angry. I don't know why, but whenever I do, weird things happen,_" Harry said when she didn't listen. "Harry! I don't understand why-" _"Yeah, you understand why!"_ Harry said, face going red. A kind of force field appeared around Harry and Hermione fell back, facing the ceiling. Harry turned from angry to shocked. Harry got up and ran towards Hermione. He helped her up into a crouching position and said,"I...I have no idea w-what happened. It's just...every time I get angry...I told you...weird things happen. I d-didn't mean to do that..." Hermione shook her head, smiled slightly and said,"It's alright, Harry. Although, I too have no idea what just happened." Harry sat back down beside Hermione and looked out the window: the sun was rising. "Harry, I think it best if we go take a shower and get ready." Harry nodded and said,"You, or me first?" Hermione's face showed puzzlement, wondering what Harry meant. "Too late," Harry said, smirking when he got up and ran out to the hallway. "Hey!" Hermione said, smiling slightly, and getting up to race Harry to the bathroom. Harry was already opening the bathroom door when Hermione reached halfway to the bathroom. She ran towards it and knocked,"Oh, come on, Harry! That's so unfair. You cheated." Harry, from the other side of the door, could be heard chuckling slightly. Hermione had a huge grin on her face; but it was just a moment of fun, then she would continue unliking him. "I called dibs first, Hermione," Harry said from the other side. "No, you didn't!" Hermione said, the smile on her face still there. Then the shower turned on and Hermione guessed there wasn't any chance for Harry to let her get a shower first.

**A/N: Yeah, it's a tad short, sorry for not updating for quite a long time, if you guys are still interested in the story. It seems weird that I made a short chapter even though it took me a lot of days to write it. Just had school exams, friendship problems, that's all. Anyway, sorry, again. :(**


	5. Out

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. Wanna thank people again. :)**

After both of them was showered and fully dressed, they went down the stairs and into the kitchen to be greeted by a table full of delicious breakfast. Mr and Mrs Granger was sitting at the table, Mrs Granger already having a head start while Mr Granger sat at the table, doing what he normally did: reading the newspaper. Mrs Jane was at the stove, cooking some more toast and scrambled eggs; as if the food on the table wasn't enough. "Mornin', Hermione, Harry," the trio in the kitchen said when they saw Harry and Hermione. "Morning," Hermione said, whereas Harry said,"Um...good morning." Harry then said,"Mrs Jane, do you need some help?" "Very polite boy, I see. Harry, just call me 'Aunt'. And I don't need help, it's alright," she replied, looking over her shoulder at Harry. Hermione had already taken a seat and Harry said again,"Mrs Jane, I don't feel comfortable calling you 'Aunt', sorry...and I insist on helping." Mrs Jane allowed Harry to take over. He moved towards the stove and held the frying pan, with the scrambled eggs currently cooking in it. "Mrs Jane, it's probably rude to ask, but did you try putting in some pepper and salt on scrambled eggs?" Harry asked. "Well, I only put pepper in it. All of us do. We think that the salt doesn't taste good. Very saltish," she replied. Harry nodded and turned off the fire for the stove. "Wha-? Harry, what're you doing?" Hermione asked as she and her aunt looked at Harry. Harry was rummaging through his pocket and took out a two-dollar note. It was enough to buy a packet of salt. "Don't do anything, Mrs Jane, I need to go to the convenience store," Harry said as he ran towards the door, opening it and closing it with a small slam. Mr and Mrs Grangers' eyes, too, had followed him to the door. "What do you think he's doing?" all of them asked each other at the same moment. Harry ran over the slippery path and towards the convenience store. He went in and walked down the third aisle towards the packets of salt. He took a packet and brought it to the cashier. "Yes, what would you like to buy?" the female cashier asked as Harry put the packet of salt onto the cashier. _Of course I'm buying a packet of salt, can't you see that I'm putting it on the cashier?_ Harry thought, but he just went with it,"A packet of salt." He paid the cashier and ran back out onto the streets and down the path; being careful.

He knocked on the door, went in, closed it, and ran into the kitchen with the packet of salt in his hand. Mr Granger had put down his newspaper and was looking at Harry as he walked to the stove. Mrs Granger had put down her fork and spoon and was also watching Harry. Hermione had also stopped eating and was looking at her new 'brother'. Mrs Jane stopped looking out the window and looked at Harry as he set the packet of salt on the counter. Harry turned the fire of the stove back on and cooked the scrambled eggs a bit more. He then took the pan and flipped the scrambled eggs onto a plate for anyone who wanted to eat them. He then set the plate onto the table, added some salt and pepper onto the scrambled egg, and sat down beside Hermione awkwardly. Even after helping them cook the scrambled eggs, he still felt unwelcomed...Mr and Mrs Granger tried the scrambled egg and their faces lit up. Mrs Jane also went to sit down beside her sister, Mrs Granger, and tried it; her face, too, lit up. Mrs Jane said,"Wow, Harry, it's _absolutely_ delicious! I didn't know that just some salt could make it very delicious. How did you learn how to cook, Harry? I mean, you're only seven, and so is Hermione, but she doesn't know how to cook." "Aunt Jane!" Hermione whined as she put down her cutlery and looked at Mrs Jane and Harry. "What? It's true," Mrs Jane said, taking a bite out of some toast. "Um...well, Mrs Jane, we all should try new things...no offence-" "No, no, no, dear, it's no offence, you don't have to say that," Mrs Jane interrupted Harry. "Okay, yeah, um...like I said, we all shouldn't just stick with something and not try anything else...like...your...family," Harry said with difficulty and Mrs Jane asked him to continue,"And I...learnt..how to cook from my p-parents..." Harry had bowed his head as Hermione, Mr and Mrs Granger and Mrs Jane looked at him with pitiful expressions on their faces. Harry wiped away his tears and stood up saying,"I...need to go out for some f-fresh air..." Harry ran out the door and into the cool, fresh, morning winter air.

Mr and Mrs Granger looked troubled, Hermione felt pity for her 'brother', and Mrs Jane was really upset for such a young and polite boy. Harry closed the front door with a slam and leaned against the door, sighing. _Mom, Dad, why? Why leave me so much to handle? For such a young boy, a seven-year old boy?_ Harry thought, the tears he held back now flooding out. Harry ran down the street, not caring whether he slipped and maybe cracked his skull; because he would do _anything_ to see his Mom and Dad again, to see his parents. Harry ran down the lane blindly and ended up in a playground: the playground he always went when he was troubled. Yes, seven-years old and he already had enough problems. He sat down on the swing and took off his round glasses; allowing him to cry freely. Nobody ever went to the playground, the playground _was_ kind of old. Hermione ran after him, being careful not to slip. She had seen him turn round the corner where the playground was. She ran down the slippery path; snow and some ice blanketing the ground. There were still snow falling down from the sky. Harry wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and his scarf tighter around his neck. The tears streamed down his face, leaving tear stains and Hermione, wearing a pink sweater and jeans, sat on the swing beside him. "H-Harry?" Hermione said, unsure of what to do or say. Harry had put his glasses on the snow-covered ground, and he looked up at Hermione; the tears visible, _very_ visible. "W-what do you w-want, H-Hermione?" he said. "Sometimes there are no reasons to what one does," Hermione replied. Harry nodded and looked back at the blue frozen sea. He wrapped the scarf around his neck even tighter. "My parents also sometimes used to push the swings...," Harry said to Hermione, out of the blue. He turned back to the blue frozen sea after saying that, and Hermione, after a moment or two of silence, she got up from her swing. She walked behind Harry and pushed Harry with a little strength. Of course, you don't expect seven-year olds to be able to push the swings very hard, do you? Harry held the metal chains of the swings and put his foot down into the white snow. His feet slowly dragged to a stop and he said to Hermione,"H-Hermione, what're you doing?" "J-Just...pushing you, like what your p-parents did..." Harry nodded when Hermione said that. He lifted his feet and Hermione took it as a sign that he allowed her to push him. Hermione pushed him gently; not that strong, yet not that weak. After a few minutes, Harry put down his feet and the swing slowed to a stop. Hermione took it that Harry didn't want to be pushed anymore. She sat back down on her own swing as Harry picked up his glasses; which had snow covering the lenses. He shook the snow off and turned to face Hermione. She pretended not to notice Harry looking at her. He said,"T-thanks Hermione. For...making me f-feel welcome just this o-once..." Hermione nodded after he said that. "Y-yeah, you don't have to t-thank me." Hermione blushed, and Harry knew it had nothing to do with the cold. Harry asked her if she wanted to sit down at the plastic bench. She nodded and Harry sat beside her on the bench. Soon after, Hermione fell asleep; Harry couldn't blame her, it actually had been a tiring morning, just chasing after him. Her eyes were closed, chest heaving with every breath. Harry awkwardly held Hermione's body and shifted her; making Hermione curl into a ball-sleeping position, her head on his lap. He decided to stand up and he took off his jacket. He folded the jacket into a square shape and settled it under Hermione's head.

He also had a sweater worn underneath, and so he took it off and put it on Hermione, using it as a blanket. He sat down on the cold and snow-covered ground, looking at Hermione. After few moments of staring, he got up and pulled up his jeans. He smartened his black shirt and went over to the railings, the railings that prevented people from falling into the sea. He stared at the evening sun and Harry looked at his watch: it was fifteen minutes past six. Wow, they had been out for so long. Harry decided to tell Mr and Mrs Granger they would come back before nine, and he took one last look at Hermione and ran off to tell them. Few minutes later, he came back, cold sweat rolling down his face. He looked at Hermione still sleeping and went over to the railing, again, to stare at the scenery. It wasn't long till Hermione woke up; she had fallen asleep at five. At forty minutes past six, Hermione woke up and was a bit startled to see herself covered in someone else's clothes. Hermione soon found out that the 'pillow' she was lying on, wasn't a pillow at all; it was Harry's jacket folded into a square. She also found out that her 'blanket', was no blanket at all, it was Harry's black sweater. _Now that I think about it, where is Harry?_ Hermione thought, sitting up, still covered in Harry's sweater. She looked round and saw Harry at the railings, and heaved a sigh of relief; she had thought Harry was gone...Hermione slowly got up, carrying the jacket and sweater. The sweater was still wrapped around her as she walked towards Harry. Hermione went beside Harry and said,"Um...thanks, Harry. Your sweater and...jacket. Sorry about sleeping in them...you know, using them as pillows and blankets-" "It's alright, Hermione. I willingly did it, so you don't have to worry," Harry interrupted softly. Hermione nodded and just thanked him. They sat down on the snow-covered ground and Hermione said,"Wanna have a snowball fight?" Harry nodded and during the rest of the evening, they threw snowballs at each other, Hermione threw some snowballs that Harry narrowly dodged and Harry nearly fell on Hermione once. They laughed merrily as they threw snowballs into each other's faces, and for the first time; Harry felt happy being with Hermione. He felt like his parents hadn't died at all...After the snowball fight, it was already fifteen minutes past eight. They somehow managed to lie on the floor, hair all over the snow, Harry's sweater and jacket covered the both of them to protect them from the cold. Hermione was red in the face and she was very sure it wasn't because of the cold. Harry, too, was blushing at their close proximity, and not because of the cold. They made snow angels and remained on the floor. It was half-past eight, just thirty minutes more and they needed to go. After lying down in the snow, and after skin brushing against each other once in a while, they got up and went home with blushing faces. And we all know it's not because of the cold.

**A/N: Kinda short, sorry. Life isn't going great. Wanna thank the reviewers, followers and favoriters. Thanks, everyone, this one ain't that good, sorry. :( Anyway, thanks, again, and sorry for lousy chapters and how long I took to update it.**


	6. Arguments

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain.**

_Three years later..._

"Okay, go around and see what books you two want," Mr Granger said as Mrs Granger had already stalked off towards the romance section. She always liked romantic and mushy stories. Hermione stalked off to somewhere whereas Harry went towards the fantasy section: he always liked magic. Harry was looking through books when he found a book with a yellowish cover. He took it out from the shelf and read the title. _The Alchemist: Nicolas Flamel_. _Seems interesting_, Harry thought as he read the summary of the book. He held it in his hand as he walked around looking for his 'sister'. Yes, three years he's been living with the Grangers, yet he still doesn't call Hermione his sister. He recognized the bushy brown hair of Hermione, and walked towards her. He looked from behind her and Hermione didn't notice him. Hermione was holding a quite thick book and reading the summary. He had to admit, he liked her a bit as a friend over the years. She still criticized him, but not frequently. She sometimes just irritated him. His feelings that time for her perhaps may have been washed away after the years. When he was seven, he liked her as in the crush type, and he knew she liked him too. But now, the feelings were gone, he liked her as a friend only. Or perhaps...not. Harry just doesn't see it. "Hello? Harry? _Harry_?" Hermione said, waving the thick book in front of his face. "Huh? Wha-?" he said, shaking his head and looking at Hermione. He guessed he was too deep in thought to have realized Hermione had finished reading the summary of that book. "You were staring at me...," Hermione said awkwardly. Hermione's feelings, too, had been washed away, but still, staring was pretty awkward. "Oh, sorry, Hermione," Harry said quickly, red creeping at his face. "Chose your book yet?" he said, trying to break the awkward silence that surrounded them. "Oh-yeah," Hermione replied, red also creeping at her face. Harry gestured for them to find Mr and Mrs Granger, and so they went. There was an awkward silence as they searched, when Harry said,"We shouldn't be searching the adventure section. We should've searched the romance section." Hermione slapped a hand to her forehead and said,"Oh yes! I forgot! Our Mom always goes to the romance section!" "Um...yeah...," Harry said, shifting awkwardly. Hermione then realized why Harry acted like that and said quickly,"I don't mean our Mom. I mean my Mom..." Harry nodded and tears were threatening to fall out from his eyes. He still hadn't forgotten that intruder...

Hermione felt bad, she felt like she just wanted to melt right there and then. Harry then walked off, leaving Hermione to walk after him. He walked briskly to the romance section and found Mr and Mrs Granger straight away. Mrs Granger was attracting quite a lot of attention. Whenever she sees a good book, she squeals,"Oh! A good book!" and Mr Granger's face would show embarrassment. Hermione had reached the romance section when Harry was halfway to Mr and Mrs Granger. Harry reached Mr and Mrs Granger and Hermione ran swiftly towards them. Harry passed them his book, they took it and he said,"Um...Mr and Mrs Granger, I'll wait for you outside the book shop." Mr and Mrs Granger nodded their heads and as soon as Harry left, they sighed. Mrs Granger said,"He'll never call us his parents, will he?" Mr Granger watched Harry as Harry walked away. Mr Granger then shook his head; Hermione's face showed pain at her parents saying those. They didn't notice her. She cleared her throat and said,"Mom, Dad, here's my book. Meet you outside." They took it and put in their basket which was full of books. Harry, meanwhile, was stopped by an odd person. "Haha! Harry Potter! Nice to meet you," the man said. The man was wearing a billowing, long, dark blue cloak. He took Harry's hand and shook it firmly. Harry had no idea how the man knew his name, and a puzzled look was on his face while the odd man was still shaking his hand; the man sure was shaking his hand for too long. Hermione saw Harry's puzzled look and an odd man shaking his hand. Hermione squeezed through the crowd but Harry was already walking away after the man had finished shaking his hand and had stalked off. _Totally weird...and how did he know my name...?_ Harry thought, at the exit of the book shop. Harry's mind went back to what Hermione said just now, and soon tears were threatening to spill out, _again_. Right then, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. A _very_ warm and welcoming hand. It felt like it was his mother or father's hand, so warm and welcoming. Harry, hoping against hope that the hand belonged to his mother or father, spun around to be disappointed. It was neither his father nor mother. It was _Hermione_. "L-look...I'm sorry I mentioned it...," she said as Harry shrugged off her hand. "Get away from me," Harry said stiffly and angrily, tears _really_ threatening to spill out in front of public. "But Harry-" _"What did I tell you? If you make me angry, bad stuff happens. I don't want to h-hurt you...so go, b-before I blow up,"_ Harry interrupted, wiping away the tears that had flown out, attracting some people's attention. Hermione put a hand on his arm and his whole body stiffened at her touch. He was already clenching his fists and Harry turned around to the people that were staring. _"What? What're you people looking at?"_ Harry said, unable to keep it in. They all backed away and figured it best not to stare at him anymore. "Harry! Don't be rude! We're in _public_!" Hermione said, tugging at his arm. He snatched his arm away and said,_"What, Hermione? What did you ask me to do?"_ Hermione flinched when she could hear anger from every syllable and she cowered as Harry continued,"Huh? _You_ were the one who started it, _you_ were the one who mentioned _my parents_. So _you_ don't blame _me_ for being angry. _You_ don't tell _me_ what to do. _Don't_ tell me not to be rude." With that, Harry stormed off, people moving out of his way so he could walk; they didn't want to get yelled at. Harry went to the car and waited, tapping his foot on the floor. Hermione was left there, now _her_ tears were threatening to come out. People stared, and now she actually knew why Harry was mad with people staring. Luckily for her, her parents came at that moment and brought her to the car park. They talked to her in front of the car park lift door; they were sure nobody would want to go to the car park after that. "Hermione, dear, what happened?" Mrs Granger asked, crouching to be at Hermione's height. Hermione sniffled, she let the tears flow freely, and Mrs Granger hugged her daughter. More tears flowed down Harry's cheeks as he heard Hermione sniffling. Hermione whispered,"H-Harry..." Even though it was a whisper, Harry could hear it clearly.

He was guilty. Then he heard Mr Granger cut into the conversation,"A-and where is he...?" Harry decided it was time to act and came out from behind the car. He said,"H-here." He slowly walked towards them and there was an audible sound of a slap. "Mom! Mom! What did you do?!" Hermione cried. "Dear! Why did you do that?!" Mr Granger cried, too. "I'm sorry, but he deserved it," Mrs Granger said without pity. Hermione stared in horror at her mother and back at Harry. Hermione's face was filled with pain, and so was Mr Granger's. Harry's left cheek stung with pain and his cheek was red. He clutched it as Mrs Granger walked to the car and opened the car door. Mr Granger and Hermione stayed put, staring pitifully at Harry. Hermione mouthed,"I'm so sorry, Harry." But Harry didn't care. Since nobody cared about _him_. _"Well? What're you waiting for? Get in the car,"_ Mrs Granger said to Hermione, Mr Granger and Harry. All stayed put. Mrs Granger became even more furious at this. _"Well? Hermione, dear, don't make me slap you too,"_ Mrs Granger fumed. Mrs Granger advanced towards Hermione and Harry stood in between them, blocking Mrs Granger's way. "Don't." It was one word. Mrs Granger was shocked at the audacity of Harry. "_How_ dare you!" Mrs Granger said, clearly not knowing what else to say. "Don't. Slap me again, as long as you don't abuse your _own daughter_!" Harry said. Hermione admired the bravery of Harry, protecting her even though she had hurt him. Mr Granger was shocked and he admired Harry too. _That's the way to go, Harry_, Mr Granger thought. Mrs Granger shook her head and stalked off to the car. Deep down, she admired Harry for the protection of her daughter, but she was too furious. She slammed the car door as she sat down on the car seat. Mr Granger said,"We should get in, Harry, Hermione," Harry nodded and Mr Granger added,"And thanks, Harry. You're a great boy." Harry smiled slightly and Mr Granger walked to the car and got in. Mr and Mrs Granger looked at Hermione and Harry from the inside. "H-Harry, I'm so s-" "Hermione, let's just go," Harry interrupted, his voice stony; he was still mad at Hermione. Hermione walked to the car with Harry, still shaking from the idea of her own mother wanting to slap her. They got in and drove home, well, at least for Mr and Mrs Granger and Hermione it was home. But for Harry, no, it was never his home. There was a very deafening silence and Hermione stared at Harry. He knew perfectly well that Hermione was staring, and couldn't take all the tension. He looked out the window and went into his own world. Mr and Mrs Granger were never his parents, Lily and James Potter were. Hermione wasn't his sister, he never had one; he was an only child. Mr and Mrs Granger's house wasn't his, his house was with his parents. His parent's corpses; stepped over like they were nothing. The intruder with no nose haunted him ever since...he still wondered what happened that night on Christmas Eve.

They went into the house and Hermione and Harry decided to skip dinner. Harry lay on the bed in the room that he shared with Hermione; they were back in Hermione's hometown. They'd left long time ago. Hermione was still in the bathroom showering while Harry had already showered. He was in his pajamas reading his new book. As soon as he heard the doorknob rattle, he quickly put the book, picture of his parents, his toy train and his glasses on the bedside table and pretended to sleep. Hermione came in, the towel wrapped around her body, hair soaking wet. Hermione looked over at Harry and sighed. _Why does he always have to pretend to sleep?_ Hermione thought hopelessly. She changed and there were the sounds of clothes being put on as far as Harry could hear. After a while, it became silent. After a moment, Hermione said, her eyes shut after she climbed into bed,"Harry, I know you're awake." _How did she know?_ Harry thought as he reluctantly sat up in his bed. "How did you know?" "Well, let's see, gee, I don't know, maybe because you've been doing that for a long time now?" Hermione said, her voice thick with annoyance and sarcasm. "Well, it's not my fault my parents died," Harry muttered under his breath. "Oh, I'm sorry. What did you say?" said Hermione, bringing her ear closer to Harry. He was getting really annoyed right now. _"Well, it's not my fault my parents died,"_ Harry repeated, except this time loudly. Hermione clearly irritated, said,"Oh, _please_, for God's sake, Harry! It's not _all_ about you! Stop feeling _sorry_ for _yourself_!" Hermione and Harry have gotten out of bed. "I'm feeling _sorry_ for _myself_? _No_, _you've_ got it all _wrong_! I'm feeling sorry for you! You don't know how to _just stop_ criticizing people! Huh?!" Harry responded, jabbing a finger at his own chest. He stepped towards Hermione with every sentence. Hermione was taken aback but didn't want to show weakness and shouted(not loud enough for Mr and Mrs Granger to hear),"Your parents were _selfish_! Selfish to have left you! Left you all _alone_, didn't they? And I do stop criticizing people!" Hermione slapped a hand to her mouth, she didn't mean to say it... Harry was far beyond angry. Far beyond mad or cross. Nothing, no words, could describe how he felt at the insult of his parents. "WHAT THE RUDDY HELL DID YOU SAY, HERMIONE?! HUH?! WHAT DID YOU SAY?! MY PARENTS AREN'T SELFISH! T-THEY GAVE UP THEIR LIVES, TO SAVE ME! SO DON'T YOU DARE CALL SELFISH! THEY ARE FAR FROM BEING SELFISH!" Harry screamed right now, jabbing Hermione in the chest. Hermione cowered and said,"I-I...Harry...I-" "I don't care, Hermione, _good night_," Harry said, climbing back into his bed and hitting the bedside table one time in anger before falling asleep. Hermione was left, once again, in the middle of the room, with the tears soon falling out. Mr and Mrs Granger could hear the commotion upstairs, but decided it best that they left their daughter and Harry to work things out themselves. Hermione, shaking all over, climbed back into the bed with sniffling sounds. She pulled the covers until over her head and started crying freely. She wiped the tears as she said softly,"W-why? I'm only ten, and Harry's nine. He's going to be ten already, and we have so many p-problems." Hermione was older than Harry; her birthday was the twentieth of January whereas Harry's, it was the ninth of February. It was only a few days after Hermione's birthday and they're fighting, just great. Hermione, with great difficulty, fell asleep, curled up in a ball, tear stains on her face.

It was dawn, and Harry stared out into the still kind of black sky. Dawn was always beautiful. No sun, no heat, not that cold. It was just right. Harry was sitting on his bed, then stared back at Hermione. There were tear stains on her face and Harry figured she really felt bad about yesterday, but Harry couldn't care less. She insulted his parents, and that was what all that mattered. No way he was calling her his sister, not ever. Neither is he ever going to call Mr and Mrs Granger his parents. His heart remains loyal to his parents. The ones who cared for him and always will, somewhere, up there, above the clouds; in heaven. His heart, will always, and for ever, be with Lily and James Potter. He will for ever be a Potter, the son of Lily and James Potter. He will for ever be known in the wizarding world, as, The Boy Who Lived.

**A/N: Yeah, my story's not that good, sorry. Anyway, I skipped the years, because it would be pretty long. I apologize.**


	7. Witch?

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. And yeah, to a guest that reviewed: I'm pretty young, so don't blame me if my story's not good or the sequencing is wrong... Anyway, should get on with the story...**

Harry looked at the dawn sky, thinking what his future life would be, well, if there ever was going to be one. The intruder; Harry knew the intruder wasn't gone. He or she will be back. Harry knew deep down, the intruder would come again, even though it seemed he or she wouldn't. He knew that the intruder would've spared his parents, only if they didn't try to block his or her way. It was _his_ fault they died. When he was young, he blamed them for leaving him, without a hug, a kiss on the forehead, not even a simple goodbye. Harry had been frustrated over the years, the image of the intruder's face, was imprinted in his mind. It could never be forgotten. The whole scene was replaying in his head, the screams of his mother and the high, cold merciless voice heard clearly. It had been _three_ years. He always imagined that he would grow up with his parents, grow old, maybe someday, even take care of them. But now, they were dead, the two people that meant the _world_ to him, gone, gone _forever_. Harry sniffled and shook his head. Why couldn't he just escape from the past? Why couldn't he...just...forget? Forget that...high, merciless, cold voice, the terrifying face without a nose, his mother begging for the intruder to spare him...to take her instead... Why did he let his mother block the intruder's way? If _only_ he had just stopped his mother from doing so, she wouldn't be dead. And Dad...he was gone. There wasn't any hope. Why was he _so_ foolish to have thought that the hand belonged to his father or mother that day at the bookshop. Why did he have to get his hopes up just for nothing? To just...think that his parents would come back from the dead. That's just ridiculous. Only in magical stories, it'll happen. He'd been reading too much fantasy stories. Why wasn't magic real? But little did Harry know, magic _was_ real, but magic can't do everything. There were so many questions bursting in his mind. Where had the intruder gone? Why was the intruder after him? Why could nobody, but Hermione, Mr Kingsley, Mrs Jeopardy and him see the house? He was confused. He stood up and walked to the mirror. His own reflection. He resembled his father. With that jet-black and untidy hair no matter what you do to it. He looked at his reflection and saw that scar. It was a reminder of the intruder, it was a mark that the intruder had left. It was also to remind him of his beloved parents. The lightning-shaped scar was no ordinary scar, but Harry didn't know that. When he was seven, the year he had gotten the scar, he hated it. But right now, it was the only thing that made him feel special; the only thing that could prove that he didn't belong ith the Grangers. He looked back at Hermione when he heard a whimpering sound coming from her. "Harry, I'm sorry...," she said softly, pain painted all over her face. Harry moved closer towards Hermione and crouched. "H-Hermione?" Harry said, reaching out a hand. He still didn't like her, he was still mad, but he needed to see if she was alright. "Harry, look, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear...," she said softly once again. Harry's hand touched her face and he sweeped her hair out of her face as he said,"Hermione..." Hermione cowered and suddenly opened her eyes. "H-Harry?" she said, Harry's hand still touching her face. Her cheeks burned red when she saw Harry's hand touching her face. Harry's eyes followed where she was looking at and said,"S-sorry." "N-no. It's alright. And I'm the one who should be sorry... Sorry, H-Harry...," she replied, tears starting to flow down her cheeks. He reluctantly wiped away her tears with the back of his hand and said,"It's a-alright, H-Hermione..." She looked up at his face and said,"N-no. You don't mean it. I can see it in your eyes." Harry shut his eyes and shook his head. He pulled his hand back with his eyes still closed and said,"I-I mean it, Hermione. It's alright." She sat up facing Harry and said,"_No_. Harry, I _insulted_ your parents. And I'm sorry, for criticizing you and everything. And please, open your eyes." He opened his eyes and looked at those pleading brown eyes. They were filled with pity and sorrow. But his, they were filled with sorrow, and only sorrow. "I mean it, Hermione. It's really alright. I shouldn't have blew up at you," Harry said after a moment of Hermione staring into his green, emerald eyes. He smiled weakly at Hermione to reassure her that he meant it. Hermione smiled back weakly and said,"F-friends?" He nodded saying,"Y-yeah, friends."

She asked,"So what now?" Harry looked from her to the dawn sky. He said,"Wanna get ready early?" Hermione nodded and they looked at each other. "Hot water," both of them said in unison. Hermione got up from the bed as Harry stood up. She ran towards the door and swung the door open, running to the bathroom, with Harry behind her. Hermione reached the bathroom door and went in. She locked it just as Harry pounded on the door. "Hey! No fair, you cheated!" he said, smiling for the only second time he'd been with the Grangers. "My words exactly that time," Hermione said from the other side of the door, chuckling slightly. He blushed red remembering the three years back, when he had beaten Hermione to the door by cheating. "Well, sorry!" he said, still blushing. "Too late for that," Hermione said, smiling and the shower started. Harry knew he had to wait. He sat in front of the wall beside the door and decided to fall asleep for a while. He fell asleep and Hermione came out forty minutes later. She called out,"Harry?" She looked left and right and saw a sleeping Harry on the floor. Hermione was wrapped in a towel and her hair draped behind her back, soaking wet. She crouched beside Harry and shook him awake. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, and trying to focus on his surroundings. He looked to his side and saw Hermione and said,"My turn?" She nodded and smiled slightly. "OK," he said, getting up and went into the bathroom. "See you later in the room." Hermione nodded and went to the room. Harry took twenty minutes to shower and, wrapped in a towel, went to the room to find Hermione reading her new thick book. He changed and sat beside Hermione on her bed. She closed her book and looked up at Harry; he was wearing a black top and jeans. "I-I never really said this that time, but...Happy Belated Birthday, Hermione," Harry said, and Hermione did something she never did to Harry: she hugged him. He was clearly taken aback and looked at the girl before him. Hermione was _hugging_ him. The only people he ever hugged was his parents. He did something that he thought he would never do: he hugged her back. He could smell the scent of her hair and he patted her back. Hermione's head was on his shoulder and she said,"Thanks, Harry." They stayed like that for a few minutes and let go of each other. Harry didn't really want to let go, Hermione felt as warm and welcoming as his parents. Hermione too, didn't want to let go, Harry felt as warm and welcoming as Aunt Mariam. They looked at each other for a moment in the eyes and Harry looked out to the sky; it was morning, but early morning. Hermione wondered why he always did that and said,"H-Harry. Why do you always do that?" She was a bit frustrated that whenever they looked into each other's eyes, he would look out the window. He looked back at Hermione and said,"Do what?" He looked into Hermione's brown eyes and then looked back to the window. "That," Hermione said. "Just thinking about stuff...," Harry said, still looking out the window. Hermione moved closer towards Harry on the bed and said,"You know it's alright to talk about it." "I don't want to talk about it," Harry snapped, glaring at Hermione. She moved back and cowered slightly. Harry's expression softened and said,"S-sorry, I don't mean to snap at you, Hermione." She nodded and said,"We should wake...my Mom and Dad." Harry said,"You wake them, I'll be in the kitchen, okay?" She nodded and Harry went down the stairs to the kitchen whereas Hermione went to her parent's bedroom. Harry quickly took some eggs and cracked them open over the frying pan. He cooked some scrambled eggs and while it was cooking he set the plates and cutlery onto the table. Hermione was still upstairs, trying to wake her parents up; they were always hard to wake up. Harry put some scrambled egg on each plate and began making some pancakes. He cooked some pancakes and put an equal amount on each plate. He went to the fridge and took the butter and set it on the table. He searched for the syrup but there wasn't any. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a two dollar note.

It was _just_ enough to buy a bottle of syrup. He went out the door and luckily for him, it wasn't winter and the convenience store was nearby. He was also a quick runner. He ran towards the convenience store and took a bottle of syrup. He paid the cashier and went back 'home'. He heard Hermione saying,"Mom! Dad! Wake _up_!" and then there was a loud thud. He guessed Mr Granger had fallen out of bed, but same as Hermione all those years before, didn't even stir. Harry put the bottle of syrup on the table so that the Grangers could squeeze any amount of syrup they wanted. Harry went up the stairs to help Hermione wake her parents. He stood at the doorway and watched as Hermione tried tugging her father's hand. "Need help?" Harry said, smirking at Hermione. She suddenly looked up at Harry and said,_"Yes."_ Harry said as he walked towards her,"We better hurry or the food's gonna get cold." Hermione looked up at him and said,"What food?" He shrugged and shook Mr Granger fiercely. He said,"Mr Granger! Sorry, but _wake up_!" Mr Granger sat up groggily and Hermione looked at Harry, amazed. "Harry? Hermione?" Mr Granger said. "Yeah, Dad, it's me and Harry. Dad, can you wake Mom up?" Hermione said and Mr Granger nodded. Harry and Hermione went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hermione was amazed to see the food and said,"_You_ cooked all _this_?" He nodded and Hermione sat down on a chair. Harry sat beside Hermione and said,"There's the syrup-" "Wait, we don't have any syrup," she interrupted. "But we can always buy them," Harry responded, and Hermione nodded. After a few minutes, Mr and Mrs Granger came in, both amazed, too. "Harry, you d-did all this?" Mrs Granger said, the events from the day before clearly washed away from her mind. "Hey! Mom! Why do you assume it's Harry?" Hermione said while chewing a piece of the pancake. "Of course it's Harry, dear! You don't know how to cook. And chew with your mouth close, please, dear," Mrs Granger added. Harry said,"It was nothing, Mr and Mrs Granger." "Always the humble one, Harry," Mr Granger said, beaming at Harry. Harry flushed red and responded,"Oh, t-thanks. Anyway, we should eat..." Harry slowly picked up his fork and knife as Hermione looked at him, worried. Harry cut the pancake and ate a piece, fully aware Hermione was staring at him. He sulked and continued eating. Hermione shook her head, mumbled a "sorry" and continued eating. Harry went back into his room right before Mr and Mrs Granger started complimenting his cooking. He slammed the door and jumped onto his bed. He took his book and read it. "Oh dear, is he upset about something?" Mrs Granger asked Hermione. Hermione raised an eyebrow and blew up. "What do you think, Mom?! You slapped him! His parents were dead when he was _seven_! Tell me, Mom, is it nothing to be upset of?! He blamed _himself_ for their death!" Hermione cried, standing up. Harry, from upstairs, could hear Hermione and felt guilty at once. He didn't want to make Hermione fight with her mother just because of _him_. Harry was about to get up from his bed when Hermione stormed in, slamming the door behind her and she ran a hand through her hair. She paced around the room as Harry looked at her, feeling awful. Hermione, after a few more minutes of pacing, turned around to look at Harry. He quickly looked down at his hands. Hermione's expression softened and she went to sit down beside Harry on his bed. "Harry...it's not your fault that I blew up at my Mom," she said, putting a hand on his back. Harry's whole body stiffened and he asked,"How do you know if I even think that?" He looked up at Hermione's face and met those brown eyes. Hermione shifted closer to him. For every second that passed, Harry felt more uncomfortable and she responded,"You know you always do that when you're feeling guilty." He looked into those brown eyes, and after a moment, he looked out at the morning sky.

He sighed. "Hermione, I do need some space..." She realized that she was so close to him and she moved away from Harry and muttered,"Sorry." Harry asked Hermione if she could get the mail. "How do you know the postman's already delivered the mail?" Hermione asked. He raised and eyebrow and said,"Trust me, Hermione, I've been staring out the window a whole lot of times." She nodded and went down to get the mail; she looked into the kitchen to see it was empty. She guessed they were going to stay in the house for the whole day. Mr and Mrs Granger came out of their bedroom as Hermione climbed up the stairs. "What're you doing, Hermione?" Mr Granger said. "Mom, Dad...I've got a letter," said Hermione, showing her parents the envelope. It had a red seal wax on the envelope and Hermione opened it. She looked up at her parents and said,"I-I'm a w-witch...?" Her parents looked taken aback for a moment and then their expressions changed; Hermione had thought they would've freaked out. But they were happy, overjoyed, at hearing, that their own daughter, Hermione Jean Granger, was a witch. Harry, who was on his bed reading his book, heard the commotion outside and decided to look. _And what's taking Hermione so long?_ Harry thought, opening the door by a crack to see Mr and Mrs Granger smiling at Hermione. "Can you believe it? Our own daughter, a witch?" said Mrs Granger, who clearly forgot about the argument earlier. Harry froze. He knew that the intruder wasn't any normal person. It had used a _wand_. At some ridiculous thought, he had a guess that Hermione was the one who killed his parents right then. Yes, ridiculous, but...who could blame Harry for thinking such a thing? At such a young age, already experiencing the loss of loved ones, the pain, the anger. The sorrow. Harry James Potter came out, disbelief on his face and said,"Y-you're a w-witch, Hermione?" Harry's expression changed to fake happiness, but the feelings he felt was clear in his green emerald eyes. Hermione looked at his face, it showed happiness. _Never believe the expressions shown on Harry's face. He was always the one who covered everything up. Look into his eyes_, Hermione thought. She looked into his eyes. And there it was. The sorrow, the anger, the pain, was showing in his eyes. His fists were clenched, and it took Harry everything in his will not to blow up and shout at Hermione. "_Well_? Are you, or are you not?" Harry said, gritting his teeth. Mr and Mrs Granger looked at the two, having no idea what to do. Harry was unpredictable, and Hermione, she...she too, was unpredictable, but not as how unpredictable as Harry could be. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and replied shakily,"Y-yes, Harry... I-I am." He closed his eyes and nodded his head. "A-alright then," he said, walking back into the room.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione pleaded, but he continued walking towards the bedroom and slammed the door when he went in. "Mom, Dad, what're we gonna do?" Hermione said. Mrs Granger said,"We don't know dear. He's unpredictable." "Well, according to the letter, it says we have to go to...Diagon Alley...? Honey, do you know any place called 'Diagon Alley'?" Mr Granger said to his wife. Mrs Granger turned to her husband and said with a confused look on her face,"What makes you think I should know?" "W-well, you shop a lot...," Mr Granger replied lamely. "And that's what you're basing it on? Do I look like a witch to you, darling?" Mrs Granger said, looking at her husband. "...Well...Hermione doesn't look like a witch, but she's one," Mr Granger said, and Hermione chuckled slightly. "D'you think we should bring Harry along?" Hermione asked. "We should. I'll talk to him. All of you get ready," Mr Granger said, walking towards Harry and Hermione's bedroom. He opened the door and went in to see Harry on his bed. Mr Granger crouched beside Harry and said,"We're gonna go out, Harry. Come on, let's go." Harry blew at his fringe and said,"Fine. But I'm not gonna talk to the witch."

**A/N: I apologize, my story's not really good. But once again, I'm really young. You people might think I'm like, 15-18...but I'm not. Anyway, sorry.**


	8. Diagon Alley

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. P.S., I changed Hermione's age to eleven and Harry's to ten. FYI, Harry's birthday is after Hermione's.**

During the walk throughout London, with Mr and Mrs Granger asking around for Diagon Alley(which earned them quite a few funny looks from people, them wondering if Mr and Mrs Granger were bonkers or something), Harry kept quiet and kept his distance from Hermione. Hermione noticed it from the start; when Harry just brushed past her and went towards the door, not even acknowledging her. He had taken his jacket and went out the door faster than any of them, and after they didn't move, Harry had gotten impatient for them taking too long. Harry was in a badder mood - if that was possible - after hearing Hermione admitting she was a witch. His...respect...for her had gone even lower, though it seemed impossible. That evening was a very strange evening indeed. Many strangers in cloaks had came racing up to Harry, shaking his hand, saying,"Pleased to meet you, Harry Potter!" and leaving a very stunned Harry behind. The Grangers were confused as to why some people made Harry seem famous, but little did they know, they had a very powerful, famous young wizard with them. There were several occasions when Harry would glimpse at Hermione, yet not for too long. She always saw it and tried not to look back, as she was clearly flushed whenever he looked at her. It always felt as if Harry's eyes were boring into her, trying to decipher something. Harry kept walking beside Mr Granger; Mr Granger had offered to hold Harry's hand when they crossed the road, but of course, Harry turned down the offer. Mr and Mrs Granger have never bothered to ask the people in cloaks, as they seemed a little odd to Mr and Mrs Granger. But when another person in a billowing cloak came rushing to Harry, Hermione asked,"E-excuse me, can you please tell us where Diagon Alley is?"

The person in the blue cloak looked at Hermione and said before smiling,"New witch, are you?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded her head. Harry really just looked at them, mortified. The person in the blue cloak bent down beside Hermione and pointed at a shop labelled,"The Leaky Cauldron". The person in the blue cloak was a woman. She said,"That's the Leaky Cauldron. It's kind of a...well, it's a place where people stay there when travelling around and people can drink. It can only be seen by witches and wizards at eleven or above. You can ask Tom, the bartender. He's always a helpful lad." Harry looked at the place where she was pointing to and didn't see anything. And he breathed a sigh of relief; for a moment there, he had thought he was a wizard. He shook his head. As far as he knew, his parents weren't witch and wizard. He felt ridiculous to think that he was a wizard, and his cheeks turned a slightly shade of pink. "T-thank you, Madam," Hermione said, feeling extremely grateful.

"Welcome," the woman said, walking away.

Hermione turned around to face her parents and said,"Leaky Cauldron. It's somewhere at Leaky Cauldron. We can ask the bartender, Tom. Mom, Dad, I'll just point to it, although you can't see it, but just head straight away. Only witches and wizards can see it." She pointed at the Leaky Cauldron and Mr and Mrs Granger went ahead. Hermione gave an uncertain smile to Harry and he said,"What? Now the witch is trying to give me a smile?"

"I didn't kill your parents, if that's what you think." Hermione was furious that Harry would ever think that, but she really couldn't blame him.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, they magically died all of a sudden." His voice was filled with sarcasm.

"I'm not saying they weren't murdered. I'm just saying I didn't murder your parents. That would be ridiculous, Harry. I don't know why you thought that. I'm not a bad person, I would never do that, even if I was," she dropped her voice,"a witch or not." Furious, she grabbed Harry by the wrist and he hadn't expected that.

Hermione and Harry would've screamed at each other if they weren't in public. Soon, they were jostling people and many times, Harry tried to pull his hand away from Hermione's grasp; but he kept being pushed around, disallowing him from snatching his hand away. In a matter of time, they reached the Leaky Cauldron and Hermione said,"I think it best you stay outside and-"

"And get kidnapped?" Harry was grumpy, and deep down, he knew Hermione cared; but he was just too angry.

"What? No, not get kidnapped, Harry. Just...the people inside are-"

"The type of people that murdered my parents?" Sarcasm dripped in his voice and Hermione started to get irritated.

"Will you please stop interrupting me and let me talk first?" She was irritated a bit, and Harry nodded once. She took a deep breath and said, her eyes closed,"I know you've had a really rough childhood. And you're still having nightmares-" Harry looked at her suspiciously and Hermione caught the look,"-because I see you waking up every night, sweating. I know you're still haunted and distraught. Yes, they're witches and wizards, but that doesn't mean they killed your parents. Do I look like I have no nose, Harry?" She had her hands on her hips. Harry looked embarrassed at the question.

"Uh, I-I... Never mind...Hermione, I'm sorry for acting bad to you. I d...don't mean to... You're a really nice girl-" Hermione blushed slightly,"-and a sweet one, too. You still cared even when I was snide to you. And answering your question, yes, you have a nose. It's just...haunting. S-sorry, Hermione." Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and Hermione smiled at him. He smiled back at her slightly; he only smiled whenever Hermione was around. "But I'm still going in, Hermione," he said, trying to brush his hair to the side, making the scar unable to be noticed. They went in as Hermione pushed the door open, Harry coming in after her. Harry could see the people in cloaks, some walking around, some sitting on chairs, waiting for their drinks to be served; people were chatting and talking merrily. Harry heard a few word from a conversation: "The Dark Lord...gone...boy...adopted already...some Muggles..." Harry was confused at what Muggles meant. He shrugged and made sure his scar was not seen. He walked behind Hermione and made sure not to lose sight of the bushy brown hair.

They found Mr and Mrs Granger, trembling at all the people in there, the cloaks; they were standing in front of, whom they assumed, Tom. Hermione and Harry approached Mr and Mrs Granger. Hermione turned to the young man wiping a mug with a cloth and said,"Um...excuse me."

He looked up. "Yes?"

She cleared her throat and said,"My Mom and Dad...they're not wizard and witch...and I'm new...I just found out."

He nodded to Hermione and turned to Mr and Mrs Granger. "Muggles, are you?"

They were trembling and shaking. "M-Muggles?" Mr Granger said. Harry wasn't listening to the conversation between them and the bartender, and he looked round at the witches and wizards inside. They looked so happy, as if they were celebrating something. Little did Harry know, they _were_ celebrating something: the defeat of the Dark Lord.

"You must be really new. Muggles are non-magic folk. Your daughter here, is a Muggle-born. Means she's a witch, but she has Muggle blood. Although I must tell you, some families find it a disgrace to let Muggle-borns study at magic schools." Tom looked at Hermione and Mr and Mrs Granger.

"You mean there's more than just one magic school? There's other schools other than Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Hermione looked at Tom, intrigued.

"Oh, dear, of course there's more. You don't expect Dumbledore to be the only Headmaster." Tom looked down at Hermione.

"Dumbledore? He's the Headmaster of Hogwarts?" Hermione had seen the name in the letter.

"Yes, he's the Headmaster. Wise old man. I admire him. He's been asked by the Ministry of Magic six times to become the Minister for Magic! That's why Cornelius Fudge has been asking Albus Dumbledore for advice, or so I've heard." Hermione couldn't really take all the names. She had so many questions bursting in her mind. Mr and Mrs Granger were looking at Tom, intrigued, too. They hadn't known was so interesting, and they didn't know that magic had been all around them.

"Cornelius Fudge? Ministry of Magic? Minister for Magic? Is Cornelius Fudge the current Minister for Magic?" Hermione couldn't stop the questions that were bursting in her mind.

"Such a curious one, and a smart one. Cornelius Fudge sure is the Minister for Magic. Minister for Magic, well, the Minister will give orders to people who work in the Ministry of Magic. And the Ministry of Magic is a place where there's many departments, like 'The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department'. You are?" He put down the mug he was cleaning and looked at Hermione.

"Oh, um, I'm Hermione. Hermione Jean Granger." After hearing that, Tom put the mug and cloth onto the table and stuck out his hand. Hermione shook it. As they shook, he said,"I'm Tom Woz. Funny name, isn't it?" Hermione shook her head, saying 'no'.

"Are you going to Diagon Alley?" He smiled at her.

"Yes. How did you know?" Hermione was surprised that Tom Woz knew.

"Of course, a lot of witches and wizards come here to drink, rent rooms to stay for a few days, but they also come hear to go through the passage to Diagon Alley. Just go to the back of the Leaky Cauldron and you'll see a stone wall. I'll show you the pattern now-" he showed her the pattern, Hermione remembering them,"-and make sure you don't ever go to Knockturn Alley. It's a bad place." His face was almost steely and Hermione, Mr Granger and Mrs Granger nodded; Harry still looking at the many witches and wizards. Hermione turned to Harry and Tom followed Hermione's gaze. Her gaze was on a boy that looked almost the same as Hermione's.

"Harry, let's go." Hermione gestured to the back of the shop. Harry turned around snapping his attention back to the Grangers and Tom.

"Wait. Harry Potter?" Tom said out loud, looking at Harry. The whole Leaky Cauldron fell silent in a matter of seconds as they looked at Harry, waiting for him to answer the bartender's question. Hermione gave a glare at Tom and after Tom caught it, she gave a 'keep-quiet' look. "Oh, I'm much mistaken, you're not Harry Potter." Hermione heaved a sigh of relief as the whole of Leaky Cauldron went back to before and she tugged Harry on his sleeve; bringing him to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, Mr and Mrs Granger following, somewhat timidly. Hermione had led them to the back of the shop to find a stone wall blocking their way.

"I don't see any way for us to get past the wall. Maybe all this is just a hoax, Hermione." Harry said, walking back inside, but Mrs Granger caught his collar.

"It is no hoax, as far as I can tell. Tom Woz, the bartender, told us something about a pattern." Mrs Granger brought Harry back beside Hermione as Hermione began doing the pattern by pushing the stones in.

"There... _Wow_," Hermione said, amazed at the shops, young witches and wizards with their parents, chatting excitedly. Her parents too were amazed at the sight before them, and Harry chose to pretend that sight didn't amaze him.

"It's alright." He shrugged and looked at Hermione, earning himself a glare from the bushy brown-haired Hermione.

"Don't pretend." Hermione had a stern look on her face and Harry shivered under her look.

"Fine." He walked through the hole in the stone wall that had formed, and covered his scar as it could be seen again. He pushed up his glasses as Hermione and Mr and Mrs Granger came in after him. They bought Hermione her Hogwarts robes(Harry gave a mortified look at the robe as Mrs Palpkin, the owner of the store, handed it to Hermione's parents). Mrs Palpkin was a kind, cheerful, woman, middle-aged; she wears a purple hat on her head. Mrs Granger gave Mrs Palpkin a fifty dollar note.

"Oh, you're Muggles?" Mrs Palpkin looked at the fifty dollar note that was stretched out towards her.

"Yes. I-is there a problem?" Mr Granger came beside his wife and said.

"Well, in here - the wizarding world - things are paid by different coins. There aren't notes. They're bronze, silver and gold. The gold one is called a Galleon. The silver one is called a Sickle. The bronze one is called a Knut. Is that your daughter and son?" Mrs Palpkin pointed at Hermione and Harry. Hermione looked after a few minutes and Harry snapped his head up to look at them only after a second.

"Well, yes, she's our daughter. Her name's Hermione. And no...he's not our son-" Mr Granger looked at Harry unsurely; Harry giving Mr Granger a pleading look,"-we adopted him. He's Harry."

"Harry Potter?" Mrs Palpkin studied Harry up and down carefully.

"N-no, I'm not Harry Potter, you must be mistaken." Harry shook his head, being careful not to let the scar be seen. He wasn't used to the scar; he didn't want anyone seeing it.

"Adopted, your name's Harry, isn't that enough proof?" Mrs Palpkin questioned.

"Not really."

"Lift your fringe." Mrs Palpkin had her arms folded in front of her chest and Hermione looked worriedly at Harry, Mr Granger looked at Mrs Palpkin, whereas Mrs Granger, she was just looking at the ground. Mr Granger looked as if he wanted to tell Mrs Palpkin that she shouldn't do that, but decided to shut his mouth. Harry's face was unreadable.

"I-uh, I don't... I don't think that's polite." Harry wanted to run out of the shop, and only Hermione sensed he was going to run. Mrs Palpkin nodded at Harry: he did have a point.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing that to customers," Mrs Palpkin said, giving an apologetic smile. She turned her attention back to Mr and Mrs Granger. "Is your daughter a Muggle-born? I must warn you, some families don't like Muggle-borns learning magic. I don't like those families who think just because they're pure-blood(she explained to them what was pure-blood) means they're better than Muggle-borns. And how about Harry? Is he a Muggle-born, pure-blood, or neither?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it's neither." Mrs Granger looked at Harry and turned back to Mrs Palpkin.

"I see. But it's only when the person's eleven they'll receive a letter. Anyway, Muggle money can be exchanged, though. Fifty dollars in Muggle money is twenty Galleons in Wizard money. A dollar in Muggle money is ten Knuts. I'll give you a discount as it's your first time." Mrs Palpkin looked at them; their faces showed gratefulness. Harry looked at Hermione and when she looked back, he looked away and pretended he didn't glimpse at her.

"Thank you very much, Mrs..."

"It's Mrs Palpkin."

"Thank you very much, Mrs Palpkin," Mr Granger said.

"And what is your sir name?"

"Granger."

Mrs Palpkin nodded her head. She gave them the robes and Harry looked at it, quite mortified. They went out the shop, Mrs Palpkin holding her gaze on Harry ashe walked out behind Hermione. He was very aware that Mrs Palpkin was looking at him. Mr and Mrs Granger stood outside, waiting to talk to Harry. Harry looked at them and Hermione did, too. "Harry, how did she know you were Harry Potter?" Mrs Granger asked, curious as to why, the people shaking his hand, Mrs Palpkin thinking he was Harry Potter, just because he had a scar and that he was adopted. Now that Mrs Granger thought about it, not many people have a scar. Harry pondered for a moment.

"I...I don't know, Mrs Granger." He really had no idea. He didn't know why all these people were shaking his hands, saying something about a Dark Lord.

Mrs Granger and they decided to move on to the next shop. Mr Granger turned to Hermione,"Would you like an owl, a cat or a toad?"

"I guess a cat. And I want a male cat."

They went off to the shop and bought a cat. The cat had a taffy kind of color and Hermione had decided to name it Toffee. "_How_ can you possibly come up with that name?" Harry said, clearly finding it amusing. The cat stared at Harry for a while with those giant black orbs, and when he reached out to stroke its fur, the cat tried to scratch Harry, it then meowed somewhat angrily and jumped down from Hermione's arms.

"Well, I dunno. I just came up with it because of it's fur color. And I don't think it likes you much." Hermione's face had gone red when she realized what a ridiculous name it was.

"Nah. The name's alright. Don't need to go red. And no way! Everybody loves me." Harry smirked.

Hermione laughed. "Well, it tried to scratch you. How is it loving you? More like it wanted to kill you."

"Nah. That's just it's way of showing it loves me-" Harry crouched and faced the cat,"- don't you just love me?"

Then the cat hissed and struck its paw out again, Harry missing it by a centimetre. Harry looked up and saw Hermione with one of her eyebrows raised.

"Seriously, Harry? Loving you by trying to pull your face off with its paw and hissing at you? Well, what a strange way of showing it's love."

"There! You got it right!" Harry said jokingly.

Hermione laughed. Harry could be a joy sometimes, and a very cranky and irritated person too. The shop owner gave them a discount and Mr Granger handed a sixty dollar note. "You can always change Muggle money into Wizard money. Right outside this shop, there's a stall with a very charming young man; he'll be able to change the Muggle money so it'll be easier," the shop owner, Mrs Rita said.

"Thanks." Mr and Mrs Granger nodded their appreciation and went out the shop, Hermione and Harry tagging along behind them, Toffee in Hermione's arms; Harry being careful not to come near unless he wanted it to take his eyes out. They went to buy a cauldron after exchanging their Muggle money into Wizard money. The cauldron was simple, black. In the cauldron shop, they had even seen one that was made of gold, shining brightly that they had to cover their eyes. And once, Toffee the cat had almost fallen into a cauldron that was simmering when Harry caught him just in time("You'd think he'd be a whole lot kinder to me after saving him," Harry said to Hermione after Toffee hissed at Harry and went back into Hermione's arms). They had bought nearly everything by the time it was six o'clock.

"Wait, just one more thing." Mr Granger took the parchment that had been used to be written on for the letter and read it. "We need to buy a...wand."

They found a shop in the corner and saw the sign. It read: Mr Ollivander's. They went in and the shop was dark, and looked as though there was no one inside. The only source of light was a candle on the counter, with nobody standing behind it. "E-excuse me?" Mrs Granger called out.

"They might be closed," Harry muttered, both hands in his pocket.

"Hello."

Everybody screamed, well, Harry didn't. Harry just turned to the sound of the voice and saw an old man looking down at him from behind the counter. "Hello," Harry greeted calmly. Hermione had calmed down and she tried to soothe down her parents.

When they didn't stop and listen,"Mom! Dad! Stop! It's just a man!" But they weren't listening. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, and Toffee the cat had hissed and meowed loudly at the loud sounds.

_"Mr Granger! Mrs Granger! Calm DOWN!"_ Harry couldn't take the loud noises and they were silenced in just a second.

The old man looked at Hermione, Mr and Mrs Granger and Harry. "May I help you?" His voice was a bit edgy and soft. The old man had silvery hair.

"Y-yes, we wanted to by a wand. Can you let our daughter, Hermione, see what wand she wants and choose?" Mr Granger said shakily.

"Wait, Mr Granger. Not to sound rude, but, who're you?" Harry said, looking around at all the rectangular boxes in the shop.

"I...am Mr Ollivander. This is the best wand shop in Diagon Alley." Mr Ollivander looked down at Harry, scratching his chin. "You are?"

"Harry," Harry said, being careful not to say his last name and not to make his fringe seen. Mr Ollivander nodded his head at this and looked at Harry suspiciously.

He turned to Mr Granger. "You are Mr Granger, as Harry calls you?"

Mr Granger nodded.

"Ah, Mr Granger. Muggles, I see? Yes, wands. My favorite objects in the world. Wands, may look like just a piece of stick to many Muggles, and new witches and wizards. A piece of wood, even. Yes, true, they're wooden sticks. But-" all of them(except Harry) looked at Mr Ollivander fascinatingly,"-they're more than just..wooden sticks. They can be powerful, depending on the owner. Mr Granger, you might be thinking wrong." Mr Granger gave a look at Mr Ollivander.

"The wand chooses the wizard, not the other way round."

**A/N: I apologize for the delay, because I was busy and there wasn't Internet. Anyway, I also apologize for the mistakes in the before chapter...sorry. **


	9. Part Of His Past

**A/N: Sorry, I got writer's block. Didn't know what to write. And thank you to Le Diablo Blanc2 and others. **

Hermione felt ridiculous (who wouldn't on their first time?) holding the wooden stick as her parents, Harry and Mr Ollivander looked at her. She swished once and the rectangular boxes that was in the direction of where the wand was pointing at tumbled down. "Nope, not that one," Mr Ollivander, swishing past Harry to take the wand from Hermione and handed her another one. "Try this."

And so Hermione did the swishing once again. This time nothing tumbled down, but one rectangular box from the top of the stack flew past Harry, missing his head by a centimetre.

"Trying to knock me out now, are we, Hermione?" Harry folded his arms, eyebrows furrowed, and he was glaring at Hermione.

"Oh my gosh, sorry, Harry... I didn't mean to do that." Hermione looked at Harry apologetically.

"It happens," Mr Ollivander said, taking the wand away from her and giving her another one again. "Now, try this."

Hermione swished for the third time. This time nothing happened. Hermione felt some tingling sensation flowing through her body and Harry and her parents could see some sort of aura surrounding her. Silver aura.

"Ah, yes, definitely that one. Remember, the wand chooses the wizard." Mr Ollivander looked at Hermione, his eyes a bit narrowed, making Hermione a tad nervous. "Now, it will be ten Galleons."

And so Mrs Granger timidly handed Mr Ollivander ten golden coins. Mr Ollivander put the wand back into its original box and handed it to Hermione. "Keep it safe," Mr Ollivander said, face serious. Hermione nodded. And they left with Toffee in Hermione's arms. It was half past six by the time they went out the shop. The number of people shopping had decreased and they made their way back to the passageway that led to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione did the pattern again (she passed the cat to Harry but it hissed and decided to let her Dad carry it)and they walked back into the Leaky Cauldron to be greeted by the bartender, Tom Woz. "Hi, Hermione and Harry. And hello to you too...Mr and Mrs Granger." They greeted back and stayed inside for a while. They ordered drinks, except Harry. He gave an excuse that he wasn't thirsty. It was true, but that wasn't the reason why he didn't want to drink anything from the Leaky Cauldron. they drank and bid farewell to Tom and left. Toffee kept its big black orbs on Harry, Harry feeling a bit nervous and uncomfortable under its stare. When they finally reached their house, Harry went up to his and Hermione's bedroom. He was tired of the walking and collapsed on the bed. Hermione came in after him shortly, holding Toffee and stroking its fur as it purred in response. Harry raised his head only to see Toffee and Hermione. He then put his head down. He groaned,"Hermione, do you _have_ to bring that cat here?"

"Well, yes. You don't expect me to leave it outside and let it roam around on the road and let it get hit by a car," Hermione huffed, putting Toffee down.

"Actually, that would be delightful."

"Hey! I just bought him!" Hermione glared at Harry.

"And it hates me. It tries to kill me. I'm afraid it'll kill me in my sleep. All the more reason to let it roam around and get hit by a car." Harry turned his back to Hermione.

"Wha-? Y-you... You are impossible." Hermione looked at his back as he was turned the other way.

"That, I am." Harry turned around to face Hermione and smirked. "Now, I'm gonna continue reading my book. Make sure your cat doesn't come here and tear my book apart." Harry reached over to his bedside table to take his book and opened it up. He began to read, while Hermione looked at him, disbelief all over her face. He looked up. "What? It's rude to stare, you know."

Hermione shook her head. "Okay, fine." Hermione turned to Toffee. "Now, Toffee, come here."

Toffee leapt onto Hermione's bed, all this while looking at Harry. Hermione noticed this. She had a weird feeling that maybe Harry was right in the pit of her stomach. She took Toffee in her arms and scratched it behind its ear. Harry was a very fast reader, so it wasn't surprising that he finished reading it in only an hour. But Hermione didn't know that he was a fast reader. She stopped stroking her cat's fur when she heard Harry snap his book shut.

"Done?" Hermione asked, quite surprised and impressed.

"Yeah." Harry got up. "I'm gonna call it a night." He walked out the bedroom door and went into the bathroom to shower. Hermione decided to read her book. She set Toffee down on the carpet and let it roam around the room as she read her book. Once in a while, she would hear Toffee meowing and looking out the window, as though waiting for something. Harry came in twenty minutes later, and asked Hermione,"What page you at?"

Hermione looked up. And for the corner of her eyes she could see Toffee staring at Harry, as though ready to pounce. "Oh...um, page hundred."

"Hundred out of?" Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.

She sheepishly smiled. "...Four hundred..."

"It's alright. Mine has five hundred pages. You read it until..page forty. And at least in twenty minutes you managed to read sixty pages." He gave a tiny smile and a thumbs-up.

Hermione smiled slightly. "Well, I should go get ready for the night." She got up.

Harry nodded. "Oh, and Hermione? Take your cat with you."

"Oh, alri- Wait, what did you say? Are you bonkers? I can't take my cat into the shower."

"Fine, if you want to be suspected for murder, then go ahead and leave him here with me. Or you can take him with you so he won't kill me and I won't haunt you for the rest of your life for leaving your cat here with me." Harry had changed into his pajamas in the bathroom and crossed his arms.

"Fine. But I'm not going to bring him into the shower with me." Hermione walked out the door with Toffee in her arms.

Harry closed the door behind her. When Hermione reached the bathroom door, she put Toffee down and said,"Stay. Here." Her cat meowed. "I take it as an 'okay'." Hermione went in and closed the door, Toffee right in front of it. Harry had turned off the lights and Hermione came back into the room, Toffee following Hermione in. She closed the door. She changed and shrugged after looking at Toffee, figuring that it couldn't possibly kill Harry. _It couldn't possibly kill Harry...right?_ Hermione thought. Hermione had a hard time falling asleep, but she did at around one in the morning.

The next morning, Harry woke up and felt his body. His eyes widened. "I'm alive! Hermione's cat didn't kill me!"

Hermione woke up with a startle. "Huh- what?" Hermione rubbed her eyes as she looked at Harry.

Harry turned around in his bed to face Hermione. "I'm alive Hermione! Wow, I'm surprised your cat didn't kill me. Where is he, anyway?"

Panic rose inside of Hermione.

Harry leaned over to see Toffee curled up in a ball sleeping, its tail protruding out. He looked back at Hermione. "Don't worry, Hermione. He's asleep on the carpet." He then noticed a stain on the carpet, a big one, that wasn't there the day before. "Hey, Hermione? Why didn't we buy a litter box for your cat?"

Hermione looked at Harry, his voice had a little fear in it. "Um...why do you ask?"

"Because I think he peed on the carpet." Harry looked grim. "Why did you choose a cat, anyway? I can't even _fathom_ why a cat."

"Oh... And well, wha-? What did you expect me to choose? A toad? It's slimy and looks disgusting."

Harry got up frantically. He always believed that all animals are beautiful and pretty, same goes with people, in their own way. "Don't you dare call a toad disgusting! All animals are beautiful and pretty in their own way, same goes with every person. And yes, including you! Everybody is beautiful and pretty... Everything is." He pointed a finger at Hermione. He flushed slightly at him admitting he thought Hermione was pretty.

Hermione couldn't say anything. She never knew Harry found her pretty. Then she shook her head. She didn't know Harry had a passion for animals. "Ok, I'm sorry, Harry. Toads aren't disgusting..."

He huffed and folded his arms. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

"Say it all you want. I'm going to wash up." He got up and went out the door with his clothes he was going to wear in his hands. He went to the bathroom and came back after twenty-one minutes of showering, already in his clothes. Hermione followed suit. Hermione came back in her clothes and decided to get the mail. There was one letter for her and others were just normal ones. She pried opened her letter.

_Want to know everything that goes on in the wizarding world? Then The Daily Prophet is your answer!_

_If yes, then subscribe to this using your pet (it'd be surprising that a toad and cat, too, can bring your letter response to our mail post here). Now, don't miss anything! This is a one week deal only! The Daily Prophet is going to give newspapers daily, as usual, but this time, back-to-back. It's going to give news all the way from when the Dark Lord incident happened. If you're Muggle-born, you might wanna subscribe to see this! And it's all for free! Limited time only._

Hermione folded the letter back and felt curious as to who was the Dark Lord and what happened. She went up the stairs and burst into the room, startling Harry. She looked around for the pieces of parchment that she had bought at the Quills, Ink & Parchment shop. She found a piece and wrote on it. She then walked over to her cat and woke it up by shaking it gently. "Hey, Toffee, I'm real sorry about waking you this early-" Harry scoffed and said,"It's only eight in the morning." Hermione ignored his comment,"-but please send it, to...I think you know where."

As if magic(but it is magic, of course), Toffee looked at it and took it in its mouth. He walked out like he knew where she wanted him to go(yet, maybe he did know). The day continued as the sun glowed orange, lowering at the horizon, the moon rising up with the sparkling stars. Next day, bright and early, Hermione and Harry woke up to something pecking on the window...and hooting. Hermione got out of her bed first, rubbing her eyes as she went to the window. Harry followed suit. Harry looked at the carpet, looks like Toffee had done his job that Hermione sent him on. Hermione nearly gasped when she looked out the window; there was a tawny, brown owl perched at the window sill, waiting for someone to open the window. And it had a newspaper in its beak.

Harry looked at the window. "Looks magical. Probably go shower." Harry retreated and went to the bathroom while Hermione took newspaper and the owl flew off, wings flapping. Hermione read it, her face contorted to shock. She couldn't believe it. Harry. Her 'brother', the parents, Hermione should've known it all fitted. Finally, the pieces of the puzzle fit. It explained all the strangers walking up to Harry, shaking his hand, the silence in the Leaky Cauldron when Tom Woz said Harry Potter, the parents, Lily and James Potter, the house, why only wizards or witches could see the Potters' house, why... the _scar_, it wasn't an ordinary scar, it was lightning-shaped for God's sake! The more Hermione thought, the more angry she got. She was a bit angry that Harry hadn't told her, that he was a freaking wizard, a very famous one, in fact. He pretended the whole time, or so Hermione thought. _Wow, he is good at acting,_ Hermione thought as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for Harry to come back in his daily clothes. He came back and saw Hermione. She cleared her throat.

"How come you never told me?" Hermione asked.

"Told you what?" Harry had no idea what she was talking about.

"Don't play dumb with me, _Harry_!" Hermione shouted, walking towards Harry, uncrossing her arms.

"Look, I have _no_ idea what you're talking a-"

"No idea? What the hell! You're a wizard, Harry! An _effing_ wizard! Why have you pretended to be disgusted by wizards and witches?!" Hermione jabbed a finger at Harry's chest.

He shrugged the hand off. "Don't touch me. Hermione, I don't know. I didn't know. Don't assume things, okay? That's your problem. You don't... _think_." Harry pointed a finger at her head.

"Oh." Hermione was speechless. Harry was right. "Sorry."

"Alright. Sorry, too."

Hermione moved to sit on her bed and patted the spot next to her. "Sit."

Harry moved over, being careful not to sit near Hermione.

Hermione turned to face Harry. "So, Harry... What made you snap about animals...?"

Harry gulped. "It's personal." Harry got up and paced the wrong, biting his lower lip.

"Please, Harry. Don't be afraid..."

"Fine." And so Harry launched to the past...

_Harry was only six. His parents took him out walking when the ball he was kicking along fell onto the road. He let go of his father's hand and without thinking, he went onto the road to retrieve the ball. The ball was at a corner of the road, where any car could just turn and bang Harry without noticing him at first. A cat, some fur patched out, one ear gone, the cat which everyone bullied, staggered onto the road. It was the side road, just before the turn. It stayed there when a car drove and without seeing, the car banged into the cat. Harry remembered it all. The small meow the cat got out filled Harry's ears, and Harry could never forget that sound. That brave cat. Harry took his ball and James and Lily ran over to Harry, hugging him, Lily chidding. The driver of the car got out and looked at the cat, worried. He was upset, angry at himself, and knelt down beside the cat's lifeless body in a pool of blood. The man - the driver - couldn't bring himself to get up, he just put his face into his hands and sobbed quietly. Harry looked over at them, his tiny hand reaching out to the cat that saved his life. He owed the cat. He owed that brave cat. Harry always admired that cat since then, he looked up to that cat. He learned bravery and chivalry. He learned...true meaning of life, true meaning of bravery. He'll never forget the cat who saved his life. People didn't know how beautiful that cat was..._

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry... Harry, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be... I learnt something that day. It was such a brave cat... and beautiful."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Harry decided to stop talking and suggested to eat breakfast then. So they did.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Thanks everyone.**


	10. Somebody's Birthday

**A/N: Some Dr Stranger complained that my story should be at the left, not in the middle, so I shall do what he says. *shrugs* Anyway, sorry for the delay, and thanks.**

Before they knew it, it was the day before Harry's birthday, 9 February. They just told Mr and Mrs Granger that Harry himself was a wizard. And since the day when Hermione and Harry found out about Harry, Hermione has been reading about him. Quite weird and creepy, actually. He's like, somewhat her brother, and she's reading about him. What's funny is that Hermione knows more about Harry than he does himself. Surprise. Anyway, Mr Granger was drinking a cup of water when they told the big news. And it had been quite a sight. Mr Granger spit out his water and some of the water got onto Hermione and Harry's faces (which caused both of them to say,"Gross."). Mrs Granger had actually been excited about the news, she even hugged Harry ("An addition!" Mrs Granger squealed as she hugged him tight. And Harry, being himself, had tensed and tried to politely shrug Mrs Granger off). Hermione had smiled a bit at the sight of Harry, and Harry figured that Mrs Granger had a death grip on him, and he had decided to pat Mrs Granger awkwardly on the back, still tensing. There were things that nobody knew about Harry; not even Lily and James Potter, his parents. Harry had developed some sort of problem which would make him tense or shrug off anyone touched him. The day went past as normal, them having dinner at the end of the day, and Harry had dcided to go to bed early. Harry couldn't help but feel anxious and nauseous, sure, he'd spent his birthdays with the Grangers four years already, but it wasn't normal to him. He twisted and turned, closing his eyes, but whenever he did, a flash of green light would make him open them once again.

Strange how life passes. Harry had just enough sleep for the next day and woke up at the crack of dawn - surprisingly - not feeling tired at all. Harry was tired of being afraid, of not being able to do what other normal people can do. He once asked Hermione to cast a spell on him, a spell to make him...brave. Little did Harry know, he was already brave, he was brave since the day that cat died. He had learned not to back down unless it was very important. Harry never loved anyone, in the _love_ love type of way, anyway. It was his birthday that day. As he looked out the window into the crack of dawn, he realized something. No, he wondered something, something he once thought about. Why hadn't the intruder been able to kill him and why did it just... leave? He didn't know and he guessed he wouldn't know - ever. Love was never important to Harry, the _love_ love, anyway. Because love never worked. You die alone in the end, anyway. People just leave you without a second thought. Harry thought that ever since. Soon later, Hermione woke up, they dressed after showering and went to the kitchen to have breakfast, as usual. Except when Mr and Mrs Granger shouted that Harry could've sworn he was deaf,"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Harry felt embarrassed, red flushing at his cheeks.

"Um... thanks," he said once Hermione and himself had settled down. They ate and decided to go out, and as usual, people in billowing cloaks came up to him and shook his hand. Except this time, Harry knew exactly why. And he still somehow despised the reason. Well, nobody could blame him. One had been to eager to come towards Harry that he even nearly tripped over his own cloak, and Harry smirked a bit, but found himself feeling guilty for that. "You okay?" he asked once the man came up to him, panting slightly.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Thank you. I can't believe it. Harry Potter's speaking to me. I can't believe it!" the man, who had blond hair, shook Harry's hand vigorously and then walked off, a huge smile plastered on his face.

Harry gave a look to Hermione that said 'I'm-getting-kind-of-creeped-out-by-all-this-famou s-thing'. Hermione just shrugged, giving an unsure smile. "Not really having fun on your birthday, are you?" Hermione asked, nudging Harry in the elbow as he was looking at a dog running across the road. He turned his attention to Hermione as they trudged behind Mr and Mrs Granger.

"Nope, not really." Harry looked at Hermione. "But it's alright."

"Oh." One word. That's all that Hermione. Strange. She normally talked more.

They continued walking in silence. Then they reached a fancy restaurant, Harry suddenly felt uncomfortable as he stared at the restaurant. "Um... Mr and Mrs Granger... you didn't have to... I appreciate everything, but... I don't feel comfortable going there."

Mr and Mrs Granger looked at Harry. Mr Granger started,"It's our pleasure," and Mrs Granger said,"but why are you uncomfortable?"

"Uh... well, I wouldn't like to tell the 'tale' here. Can we just go to your house-" _He's never going to call it home,_ Hermione thought,"-and have lunch there?"

"Oh... Harry... sure, we guess," Hermione piped in.

Mr and Mrs Granger were hesitant at first, but then they agreed, yet a bit hastily. Harry knew what they were thinking, and he couldn't really blame them. _Guess this was all for naught,_ that's what they were probably thinking. So they went home, as usual; people coming up to Harry. Hermione actually felt a tad bit jealous at all the attention Harry got, and chided herself mentally, but still couldn't stop the jealously. They walked home, Hermione having to deal with her now raging jealously. Once they reached home, Mrs Granger prepared lunch and they sat down to eat. While Harry was in the middle of biting into his sandwich, Mr Granger decided to ask.

"Son-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm not your son, Mr Granger," Harry said. "... Um, I'm just saying...," Harry added when Mr Granger looked a bit offended.

"Oh, I should be the one saying sorry, Harry. I guess now's not the right time to ask why you didn't want to go to the restaurant...?" Mr Granger asked, unsurely, jabbing at his salad with his fork.

Harry shook his head politely, smiling lightly. "If you'll excuse me... I think I'm done here."

They allowed Harry to go back up andafter they were sure they were out of earshot, they started to talk about Harry. Hermione just stayed silent, putting a spoonful of mashed potato in her mouth.

"Um, doesn't mean I'm upstairs you can talk about me," Harry called, making Hermione smile slightly. Harry always had this very good hearing... weird.

"Sorry," Mr and Mrs Granger called back to Harry.

Hermione excused herself and went up to the room. She closed the door. "Like being famous?" She couldn't help it, and neither could she believe she was saying that.

Harry looked at Hermione skeptically. "Um... why do you ask...? Hermione, are you... jealous...?"

"No," Hermione retorted, denying the truth, obviously. There was a tint of green at her cheeks. She obviously wasn't going to vomit, more like green with jealousy.

"Don't lie, Hermione. Besides, fame isn't everything. It's not good either. I don't like it much. The- the shaking of hands, Harry James Potter, my parents, the attention." Harry gave an awkward laugh. "You think I like that?"

The green faded from Hermione's cheeks. She felt guilty that she thought what she thought. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, an owl with greyish feathers flew in through the open window, an envelope in its talons.

"Yours?" Harry had his eyebrows raised. Hermione shrugged.

"Dunno. Let's check." Hermione went over to the owl which was hooting and standing on top of the table. She took the envelope from its talons gently. It was for Harry. Then she recognized the seal. The one with four animals. A badger, a snake, a griffin and a raven. She had wondered what it meant, but guessed she would find out in September the first. "... Harry?" Hermione asked as Harry went over beside her. "It's... yours." She handed the envelope to Harry.

_To Harry James Potter_

_In The Bedroom Shared With Hermione Jean Granger_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

Harry pried it open after seeing the front and was feeling a bit freaked out at how they knew where Harry slept in. Sure enough, a list of things he needed were shown there in green, emerald ink, just like Harry's eyes.

"Hey, I never realized that. The ink's the same color as your eyes." Hermione nudged Harry gently in the side.

Harry couldn't believe Hermione could know something like that. He looked up into Hermione's eyes, green meeting brown. He smirked. "Stare at my eyes much...?"

Hermione decided there was no point arguing. But she still sheepishly said,"... Yeah."

"Finally you're not denying." That earned Harry a playful nudge in the ribs. He continued reading the letter, moving to sit down on his bed after reading.

"You okay?"

"Yeah... I was actually already expecting this letter ever since I found that I'm... you know." He read at the letter again. Then he stood up and paced the room. "September the first? Really? How do we know it's not a hoax?"

"Really? After seeing me holding that wand, seeing cauldrons, brooms that can be mounted on and you can fly on them, a passageway to Diagon Alley, and you're still thinking it's all a hoax?" Hermione had her arms crossed, eyes raising in question.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm sorry... But I have to be sure. You'll never know." And the day went past, ending with dinner.

_August the first, a month before September the first..._

"Harry! Hermione! Let's go to Diagon Alley to buy things for Harry!" Mrs Granger cried from below, waking Harry and Hermione.

"Mom! It's only nine! That's like... in the middle of the night." Hermione slowly sat up in her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Just then, the alarm clock on the bedside beside Harry's bed rang. "Ugh... what time is it?" Harry mumbled, just waking up.

"Nine," Hermione said.

"Nine? That's like... in the middle of the night."

"I know right? That's what I told our- I mean, my Mom."

At Hermione's mistake, Harry sat straight up, completely awake. "Um... it's alright...," Harry said,"Come on, let's go to... Dogan Ally."

Hermione had to giggle slightly. Harry frowned.

"What's funny?"

"It's Diagon Alley. Not... whatever you said."

"Oh. Sorry, I wasn't really listening the first time." Harry got up and went to the door. "Gotta go bathe before your Mom starts yelling... Don't want her-" Harry swallowed the lump in his throat,"-... slapping me again..."

"Harry. I'm sorry about my Mom before back then at the car park."

"Hermione. Think about this while I'm in the shower. Do you really think it's worth it to always apologize for everybody's mistakes?" Harry went ot the door to the bathroom to shower, daily clothes and a towel in his hands. Hermione thought about it. He was actually right. It wasn't worth it. But only some were worth it. Harry came back in to find Hermione staring out the window; first time Harry saw her do that. It was always Harry himself sitting there... "Thought about it yet?" Harry cocked his head slightly to his right side.

"Um... yeah, I guess...," Hermione said, turning around to face Harry.

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I was busy and my teacher just gave the whole class iPad minis and she asked us to download some apps and I kinda took a lot of time finding the apps. Plus, I had writer's block. Gosh, I feel like an asshole. Sorry. For delaying and all that. Hope you like it. Not much... but I guess it depends on all of you readers. I know it's pretty short, and I'm TERRIBLY sorry for that, I really am. I dunno how many times I have to apologize. But I guess apologies can't fix everything... Sorry, and hope you enjoy...**


	11. Feelings

**A/N: Sorry for the mistakes in the earlier chapters. Um... sorry for the delay and all that and hope you like it. I got writer's block... so... yeah. I'm not sure I should continue... so I try. And to Dr Stranger, if you're even reading this: Thanks for the advice, although you might've said it in a kinda harsh way, but I still appreciate the advice. Without further ado, let's launch into the life of the famous, young wizard, Harry James Potter, along with the bushy brown-haired, smart witch, Hermione Jean Granger.**

"Well, is it worth it?" Harry asked as he walked towards Hermione to sit down beside her. Hermione's head and eyes followed his movements. When he had sat down, she turned towards the window again, looking out at the horizon. Lots of owls were flying through the morning sky; which was a rare sight. But considering that the Dark Lord was gone, it wasn't that weird. Some owls were perched on top of the roof, some on the chimneys.

"No-" Hermione started but Harry cut her off.

"See? I told you."

"You didn't let me finish. Yes, I agree. It's not worth it, _but_ _some_ are. Not all," Hermione finished her sentence.

"... Well... what do you include as some? Who would you apologize for? And in what situations?" Harry asked, his face features soft.

"... My Mom and Dad always does the silliest of things... their mistakes were small... so I don't think it's worth it. So my Mom and Dad are out, I guess... and then there're some friends in school... Hana-"

"Hana? What kind of name is Hana? Reminds me of the Lilo and Stitch movie... Ohana, I think?" Harry interrupted.

"Oh please, Hana's a great name. Anyway... um... I guess some friends in school...-" Hermione wanted to add in Harry, but felt a bit embarrassed to admit it,"-that's... all." Hermione kept her gaze out the window, not wanting to have eye contact with Harry. Because if they had eye contact, Harry would know she was lying. _But what if he already knows?_ A voice asked her in her head. _Oh please, shut up, brain. Harry may be smart, but he's not like Sherlock Holmes._ She said mentally to her brain. Harry was gazing at her intently, trying to decipher something - anything - from Hermione's actions. He knew she was lying after a moment.

He sighed and wanted to state it, but decided against it. "Okay."

One word. Hermione felt her stomach drop at the disappointment in Harry's voice. Harry got up. Hermione wanted to say something - anything - to make Harry stop from walking towards the door, but she couldn't voice out anything. Her throat was too dry, she was feeling ashamed, _too_ ashamed. She felt guilty and she felt bad for not admitting as she watched Harry walked out the door, half-slamming and half-closing it. As Hermione sat there, the morning light shining on her, she knew she felt something for Harry. That was why she didn't dare tell Harry, as she feared that what she said might've ruined their friendship. She decided to take a shower and weep there, instead of sitting in the bedroom, where there might be a chance Harry would come in and see the tears that were now slowly rolling down her cheeks.

She got up and wiped angrily at her tears; she couldn't afford to break down right there and then. She got her towel and daily clothes. She went into the shower and didn't even bother to take off her clothes. She just went straight into the shower, turned it on, and let the cold water patter onto her skin as she sat down, back against the cold, hard wall, bottom on the cold and hard bathroom tiles. She sobbed a little, and then silence fell.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Harry was using his spoon to swirl the mushroom soup, one side of his cheek leaning against his hand, which was propped up on the table. Harry could've sworn he sometimes saw a reflection of Hermione's face in the soup. And he would think it was ridiculous and shake his head; and would go back to stirring. Harry knew why he was so disappointed. He felt something for Hermione, and it wasn't just friendship. Eleven years old only, and he was feeling that way. He wouldn't admit his feelings to Hermione, because he didn't want to get rejected and wouldn't want to risk their friendship. Anyway, it wasn't like Hermione liked him back. Things like that only happened in movies. Harry had watched one or two movies (because he was forced to) and found movies boring and predictable. That was why he never watched movies since the last two.

Mrs Granger noticed Harry's actions and asked,"You alright, Harry?"

Harry looked up. "Huh? Oh-uh, yeah, I'm all fine." Harry forced a smile. He looked back don at his soup and continued stirring.

"Come on, Harry. Mr Granger's upstairs having last minutes of beauty sleep and now we can finally have some mother-and-kinda-son talk. Are you fighting with Hermione?" Mrs Granger put down her fork and spoon.

Harry sighed and looked back up. "...Yes."

"What about?"

"Mrs Granger...can you promise something?"

Mrs Granger was intrigued. Harry had never told her any of his secrets. "Um..sure."

"Well...over the years...I know I'm too young, but over the years... I think I might've developed some feelings for-" Harry gulped,"-Hermione."

Mrs Granger's eyes grew wide. Sure, she'd seen Harry get awkward and sometimes turn into a blabbering mess around Hermione, but she'd never expect Harry to like Hermione. "Y-you like Hermione?"

Harry nodded.

"Um...speaking about Hermione, where is she...?" Mrs Granger asked.

"I'll find her... I guess." Harry went up the steps and could hear the water running inside the bathroom. He was just about to decide that Hermione was showering when he heard soft sobs and cries. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. _What have I done?_ Harry thought. He slowly turned the doorknob and was surprised to see that it was unlocked; Hermione always locked the door. He opened and could hear the soft sobs and cries more clearly now, and could see wet, brown hair, all unkempt as the flowed down. Harry didn't know what he was doing, he moved towards Hermione, who was hugging her knees which were at her chest. She was slowly rocking back and forth, eyes focused on the tiles. Harry sat down beside her, more instinctively than intentionally.

He slowly put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. He didn't exactly like contact... but Hermione... was Hermione. And her being Hermione, made Harry turn into another person when he was around her. Hermione looked up at the weight of the arm. She looked at the arm first and recognized it was Harry's. Harry was a left-handed, and when he wrote on parchment with ink, his hand would get ink on it. "What do you want? Get off me, Harry."

Harry didn't budge. "I just want to stay."

Hermione's eyes snapped up to Harry's. There was a blazing fire in them, nothing Harry has ever seen. "I hate you, Harry. You get that? All I did was answer your question and _you_, you effing walked out the door, _disappointed_. Well then, if you don't like my answers, then just don't _effing_ ask! I _effing_ hate you. Now get off me."

"Hate me or not, I'll stay. I had a reason. One I'm not ready to tell... yet." Harry awkwardly pulled Hermione in a sideways hug. Harry's hair was soon wet, spectacle lenses with water drops on them, scar unable to be seen.

Hermione blushed a bit and was fortunate for the water that 'rained' down on them. Hermione couldn't help give a soft sigh as she slowly rested her head in the crook of Harry's neck. He stiffened for a moment, shocked at the action, then relaxed. She breathed quietly,"I really like you." Harry couldn't hear it as she said it quietly, and the water drops drowned her voice at some points. Harry just sat there beside Hermione, strangely feeling comfortable. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry turned his head to face Hermione. She had lifted her head from the crook of his neck.

Hermione pondered for a moment. "...Nothing."

"Oh," Harry said,"alright."

_After drying themselves and getting out of the shower..._

Hermione perched herself on her own bed, hands at her side as she looked at Harry. Harry was focusing on their school work (normal school), his eyebrows scrunched, eyes a bit narrowed, and Harry was actually chewing on the other end of his pencil as he thought. Hermione couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Harry's attention was quickly brought away from his school work and to Hermione.

"... Did you chuckle?" Harry asked, still chewing on the end of his pencil.

Hermione gave a slight smile and shook her head. "Don't worry, you're not hearing things. I did chuckle."

"Why?" Harry had stopped chewing on his pencil and set it down onto the dressing table.

Hermione's slight smile turned into a grin. "You're just too adorable."

Harry nearly fell off his seat and blushed slightly. He crossed his arms. "No way. I'm not adorable and you know it."

"Whatever you say."

"You're impossible, Hermione."

"You love it." Hermione's face scrunched up as she remembered. "Aren't we supposed to be downstairs with my Mom and Dad...? We're supposed to go Diagon Alley, right?"

"Oh, shi- Yeah, I remembered. Let's go down so they won't shout." Harry began to take his picture of his parents and him from the bedside table. Hermione went beside him.

She looked from the picture to him. "Your mother has a kind face. And you have her eyes. And the same jet-black, unkempt hair as your father," she said softly. Harry couldn't say anything but nod. After a moment's silence, Hermione said while actually ruffling his hair a bit,"Let's go back down, Messy Hair."

Harry groaned. "Don't tell me that's my new nickname."

"Or would you rather be called Scar Head?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. "No way. I think Messy Hair's alright."

Hermione grinned. "My thoughts exactly. Now come on, let's go." Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and brought them down the stairs, causing Harry to tense for a while and then relax. He was blushing furiously when they reached the kitchen. Mr and Mrs Granger were already there, having a hushed argument. Their heads turned towards the two children. "Why, we've been wondering where you two've been," Mr Granger said, putting on a strained smile. Mrs Granger saw Harry's flushed face and tried to fight the smile that was coming on, but couldn't help it. Oh, how flustered Harry was with Hermione just holding his hand. Hermione too, actually was blushing a bit, though Mrs Granger guessed Harry was too busy trying to stop the blush. Hermione kept glancing at their intertwined hands, but Harry, again, was too flustered. Just then, the smile broke out. Hermione and Harry's face expressions turned from flustered to a look that said,'Um-what's-with-that?'.

Mrs Granger then looked at her husband and saw he gave her an odd look, the same look that was on Hermione and Harry's faces. She then gave a glare at Mr Granger and turned back to Harry and Hermione. She shook her head and said,"Sorry, I couldn't help but notice something..."

Mr Granger, still confused, decided to eat his breakfast, and he kept his head low.

Hermione glanced at her father and Mrs Granger gave a wink to Harry. _What the...?_ Harry glanced down at their hands. _Oh._ Harry, face blushing slightly, tried to tug his hand away gently, so as to not let Hermione know. Apparently Hermione still could feel the movement, and she looked at their intertwined hands, then blushed furiously. She quickly let go and muttered,"Sorry." They went to sit down for breakfast, both actually finding themselves missing the contact, even though Harry wasn't a fan of touching.

They ate, with Hermione and Harry glancing at each other awkwardly, sometimes having a second of eye contact, and then turning their heads back to their breakfast awkwardly. _This can't be real love. It's... it's infatuation, isn't it? Puppy love?_ Both Harry and Hermione thought. But they didn't ever experience anything like this before. The connection. It wasn't just like some school crush. It was different. Very different. But it's just whether they want to act on it. _I shouldn't love...whenever I did... they died. Just like my Mom and Dad... I...I shouldn't. I can't. She's too young to die. They'll leave... I can't trust. I can't... I don't... _do _love. He's still out there. That intruder. I just honestly don't_ do _love_.

**A/N: I got writer's block... Didn't know what to write. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it... although sometimes I doubt that.**


	12. Problems?

**A/N: I'm really sorry for the long update. Life's been **_**hectic**_**. Arguments in real life... anyway, don't wanna hear my sad life. Uh...well... I apologize for some errors in the last chapters, all the way from one to eleven. Without further ado...let's go into the Wizarding World.**

"Come on! Come on! Don't want to be late, do you?" Mrs Granger called from outside the door, poking her head in. Mr Granger was standing beside his wife, waiting patiently. Unlike Mrs Granger, Mr Granger had a sense of calm and patience. Harry and Hermione were upstairs, getting their sweaters. It was strangely cold; mornings weren't normally cold - or more precisely, never cold. Harry had rushed out of the room first, trying to put on his sweaters as he went down the stairs.

"Late for _what_, exactly?" Harry asked, now moving towards the door, with Hermione trailing behind him.

"What else? Diagon Alley!" Mrs Granger said.

"Um...Mrs Granger...it's in the middle of morning - to be more precise, it's...eleven. Diagon Alley's not going anywhere...," Harry said, looking at his watch to emphasize his point.

"But me and Mr Granger might...," Mrs Granger mumbled under her breath.

Harry, being the one with the awesome hearing, said,"You two are going somewhere? Where?"

Hermione looked at her mother. She knew that face. Her mother was putting the 'It-doesn't-literally-mean-like-that..' face. A flash of horror and hurt appeared in Hermione's eyes as she imagined all the horrors that could unfold. _Somewhere? What does she mean by that?_ Then the one thing she hoped to avoid in all marriages came. _...Divorce. No. Mom...no. Don't do this._

Mrs Granger looked up to see her daughter's eyes for a brief moment. Hurt. Sorrow. Pain. Horror. And...anger. Her daughter knew. Her daughter realized, then. She then looked into Harry's emerald eyes. Same as Hermione's. They were smarter than she'd thought. Way smarter. Perhaps they'd also realize she said 'might'?

"You can't be serious, Mrs Granger. She's your daughter," Harry said, voice raising with emotions. And anger was definitely one of them. Mr Granger had already stepped up...looking at the exchange between the trio. Hermione now had her eyes downcast, head bowing. Harryturned his head to Hermione then back to Mr and Mrs Granger. "What kind of parents are you? I mean no disrespect...but I think you two are worse than my Mom and Dad. And they just left me when I was seven. You disgust me. You know what? Never mind. Let's move on," Harry walked out, grabbing Hermione's hand,"come on, Hermione. Oh, and Mr and Mrs Granger?" They looked at him. "Don't do the same mistakes." He tugged Hermione along.

Mr Granger was fuming after hearing Harry's words, whereas Mrs Granger was silent. Harry looked back one more time and saw Mr Granger approaching them... Harry, in his years living with the Grangers, had never seen Mr Granger this infuriated. Mr Granger was about to put his hand on Hermione's shoulder and bring her back, but Harry tugged her towards him and stepped in front of Hermione towards Mr Granger. "Don't. Touch. Her," Harry said, gritting his teeth. For an eleven year old, he really did look intimidating.

"She's my daughter."

"Not for long, anyway."

"I...uh- She forever will be my daughter. Divorce. Or not."

"Oh please. If you really are a true father, you wouldn't even think of having a divorce."

Hermione hid behind Harry, looking from Mr Granger to Harry. Mrs Granger looked into Harry's eyes. Anger. Hurt. Care. He really did care for her daughter, in whatever way he showed it - weird, or not.

"I- Uh...it's none of your business, Harry," Mr Granger spluttered.

"You can't be _serious_. She's _my_ stepsister."

"_And_ I'm her _father_."

"...No. You're a monster. You can't be my father if you're talking to Harry like this," Hermione cut in, siding with Harry - much to her surprise.

Harry looked behind him for a moment at Hermione then turned back to face Mr Granger. Mr Granger looked at Hermione, dumbfounded. He couldn't move. His anger dissipated as he watched Harry and Hermione's anger, hurt, pain, care for each other and boldness in their eyes. He felt ashamed. For being such a toolbag. He didn't know what to do. He and his wife's relationship wasn't working.

When neither Mr and Mrs Granger said something, Harry shook his head and stormed off, tugging Hermione's hand as he went, adding,"Hermione, let's go."

When Harry and Hermione were out of earshot, Mr Granger walked towards his wife and said,"They're right. But...our relationship isn't working. How?"

Mrs Granger grabbed her maybe-soon-to-be ex husband's hand reluctantly. "We'll keep the relationship. For her. For Harry. If it doesn't work...we have no

other option." They went back into the house in silent agreement, leaving Hermione and Harry to cool off.

* * *

"Harry. _Harry,_" Hermione repeated, louder when Harry didn't stop. Hearing Hermione's fearful and ragged voice, he stopped. "Where are we even going?"

"...The playground. I'm really pissed off right now and I always cool down there. Now come on. Just a few more steps." He tugged her further until they reached an abandoned playground and he sat on the swing. Hermione sat on the swing next to him. Harry looked down at his feet, fiddling with his hands whereas Hermione's eyes bore into the side of his head. He inhaled the cool morning air sharply and said, chuckling slightly,"You're staring."

It was winter in London, and Hermione breathed out a humorless laugh. "Can't blame me. You're pretty good looking," Hermione teased as Harry's cheeks flushed red. "Embarrassed much?" She looked at Harry's cheeks.

"Uh- Just...cold," Harry said lamely.

"Right... I was just teasing you. You looked bothered, that's all."

"You don't say?" Harry turned his head towards Hermione, a slight smirk playing at his lips.

This time Hermione laughed softly. "I can be dumb sometimes."

"Clearly," Harry joked, a full smirk now.

"Oh, you're incorrigible." Hermione hopped down her swing and took a fistful of snow and shaped it into a ball. As Harry looked up, she threw the ball-

And hit him right in the face. "Ugh, my glasses!" Hermione clutched her sides as she laughed at Harry's reaction, trying to suck in the cold air for breath. "...You spoiled them! Oh, you're _definitely gonna pay for that_." Harry ran towards Hermione and tackled her to the ground, surprising Hermione. He ran his hands down her sides, tickling her.

"Please! Harry, stop! S-s-stop! Harry! Have m-m-mercy!" Hermione said, gasping for breath and laughing at the same time.

Harry stopped and rolled off her, instead laying down beside her in the snow. "You sound like you're dying."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was. From laughter."

"Like I would kill you. You do remember my parents were murdered, right? I wouldn't want to do the same and disappoint my parents." Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione, who was looking at the snowflakes, could feel Harry's eyes on her and turned to face him.

"Something wrong?"

"Nah, just admiring." Harry reached out reluctantly to tuck a brown lock that was in front of Hermione's face behind her ear. Her breath hitched momentarily and released it as Harry pulled his hand away. It felt as if time slowed down - for both of them. Harry looked back up and Hermione's eyes remained on Harry. "You know what was the most embarrassing story of my life?"

Hermione wondered for a moment and said,"What?"

"When I was five, a snowflake fell in my hands, and when it dissipated, I kinda burst into tears." Harry grinned, remembering just how silly and stupid he was, and the memory of his parents laughing at him, telling him that it was part of nature.

"You- What?" Hermione stifled a laugh.

"You heard me. And go ahead, laugh all you want. My parents did too."

Hermione couldn't help and laugh out loud.

"Jesus, you really do laugh too loud," Harry said.

"What can I say? You cried for a _snowflake_," Hermione deadpanned.

Harry shrugged. "Anyway...about Diagon Alley..."

"Yeah...we don't have money...," Hermione said.

A low rumbling caught their attention. It came from the sky. He and Hermione looked up to see a motorcycle with a person almost as tall as a post lamp. and as wide as two cars stuck together, vertically. "Please tell me you see that too. My spectacles are kinda cracked by you."

"...Yeah, you're not hallucinating." Hermione then took out her wand sheepishly and pointed it at Harry's spectacles.

"Whoa, what're you doing?" Harry said as he stared cross-eyed at the wand.

"Do you want me to fix it or not?"

Harry just nodded in agreement.

"Oculus Repairo." The tip of her wand ignited and Harry's glasses sparked, and the cracks on it disappeared.

Harry took off his glasses, staring at it in wonder, both forgetting about the flying motorcycle momentarily. "I really love magic," Harry breathed.

Hermione chuckled. Harry put his spectacles on again and looked at the motorcycle as it landed next to time.

The man had bushy black beard, that covered his mouth mostly and he had black beetle eyes. "Harry! How much ye've grown!"

Harry and Hermione got to their feet, brushing off snow, trying to make themselves more presentable. "...Excuse me... But... Who are you?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I forgot. The name's Rubeus Hagrid. I got something fer ya." The stranger named Hagrid looked into his mole coat and Harry looked around, wondering how anyone wouldn't have seen a _flying_ motorcycle. He pulled out a cupcake. Harry looked down at it; it _was_ a bit squashed. But Harry couldn't complain. "Sorry it's...er...a bit squashed."

"I appreciate it...but you could keep it," Harry said politely.

"Always humble, Harry. Knew yer would be. But take it. Me birthday present ter ye." He stretched out his big hand with the cupcake in it.

Harry took it gratefully and said,"Thanks...Hagrid."

"Tis' yer friend?" Hagrid said, looking at Hermione with his kind black beetle eyes.

Under Hagrid's gaze, Hermione said,"Um, yes. I'm his friend. Hermione Jean Granger."

"Alright. Come on, we're goin' Diagon Alley," Hagrid said, a smile under his black bushy beard.

"We can fit in that? ...Hagrid, not to be rude...but...it's a little bit small...," Hermione said, looking skeptically at the motorcycle.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll fit yer and me. Come on then." Hagrid moved forward to his motorcycle and waved them forward. Harry moved without hesitation and Hermione caught his arm.

"Can we trust him?"

"Well, he did seem kind."

"But he's like a giant."

"Obviously."

"And you're still going?"

"Yes. He's done nothing to make us think otherwise."

"Okay, fine." Hermione relented and they went to sit on the motorcycle. It was a bit squeezy, though. Hagrid started the engine to life, its low rumbling filling the morning sky. Harry and Hermione looked around for anybody peering from behind their curtains at the window - or if anyone on the streets were looking. Surprisingly, not a single soul was in sight. They flew up in the sky gradually, Harry enjoying it as the cold wind blew against his face and Hermione screeching and screaming in fright, and also squirming and begging Hagrid to fly back down, but it looked like Hagrid wasn't having any of it.

* * *

They reached a familiar building - the Leaky Cauldron. The ride to the Leaky Cauldron had been full of screeches - quite surprisingly, people on the street didn't hear her screeches - and engine running. Hagrid was silent all the way, making some talks with Harry. He would've started a conversation with Hermione had she not been screaming the whole time. They parked behind the Leaky Cauldron and pushed through the front door. "Hey, Hagrid!" The familiar voice of none other than the bartender, Tom Woz, could be heard. "Here for a drink?"

"Not today, Tom. Dumbledore's sent me on a secret mission. And here's Harry, too." Hagrid grabbed Harry by the shoulders(_I think my shoulders are gonna break..._) and stowed him towards Tom.

"So you _are_ Harry Potter! Nice to meet you." Tom extended a hand and Harry shook it awkwardly, not wanting to be rude.

"See yer've met him. And here's his friend-"

"Yes, Hermione Granger. Nice to see you again. Your Mom and Dad?" Tom interrupted.

"They're at home. Nice to see you too," Hermione replied.

"See yer've met her too. Gotta get going," Hagrid said, bringing Harry and Hermione to the back of the Leaky Cauldron when someone shouted.

"It's Harry Potter!"

People started standing up from their stools to rush towards Harry, and he was a bit shy with all the attention. "Um...yeah, I am..." It felt like there were thousands of people thrusting their hands towards his face, waiting for him to shake his hand, except there were only around thirty people. Hermione and Hagrid stood there, both smiling at the shy Harry.

"Are you going to do anything, Hagrid?" Hermione said to Hagrid, smirking.

"Nope. I think he can handle a bit of ter fame." Hagrid then stood up straighter when he saw a man with a turban wrapped around his head. Hermione thought he looked funny. And smelled funny too... _Is that garlic? Jeez._ Hermione followed Hagrid as he moved towards Harry. "Professor Quirrell! Come and meet Harry." Hagrid then turned towards Harry as Professor Quirrell came forward to them. "He's a bit odd. Some say he went into ter Dark Forest and came out stuttering when he came across vampires."

Professor Quirrell came and shook Harry's hand. "Y-yes, p-pleasure to m-m-meet you, M-Mr P-P-Potter."

"Harry, tis' yer Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell."

After the shaking hands for what seemed like a thousand times, they went into Diagon Alley. It was already noon when they reached. Soon-to-be witches and wizards walked around with their parents, chatting, looking for animals - owls, cats or toads. Some were looking at the cauldrons sale, some were buying textbooks, and like before, he saw few people standing in front of the broomstick shop, admiring the new Nimbus 2000. "Wow. But Hagrid, I haven't got any money."

"And that's our first stop. Gringotts. Ter Wizard's bank. Ter safest place in the world. Well, nothing's safer than Hogwarts." Hagrid started in the direction of a building that was made of white marble, a pillar on each side, holding up the balcony. If the outside was that marvelous, Harry wondered what the inside would look like.

Harry and Hermione followed Hagrid in the crowd, trying not to get lost - which wasn't that hard, considering Hagrid was twice as large than anyone else. They went in, and both Harry and Hermione looked around in wonder, their jaws dropping as they stared at the goblins with spectacles on. Well, most of them had spectacles, anyway. There were two rows of table, one on the left and the other on the right. Lamps stood on the tables, and the goblins sat on high chairs, either looking at documents or something else.

Hagrid smiled under his beard at Hermione and Harry's expressions. They walked towards a counter in the center at the end of the hall. It felt as if everybody's eyes were on them, watching closely, watching their every move. "Here on Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid whispered to the goblins and handing them a piece of paper which Harry assumed contained something important once they reached the counter.

"I see. Griphook, open Vault 219-"

"I'd also like to withdraw some money from Harry Potter's vault," Hagrid said. The goblin looked slightly annoyed at the interruption but let it slide anyway.

"And does Mr Potter have his key?" the goblin said, his spectacles at the bridge of his nose, staring straight at Harry. Harry was unnerved and Hermione looked at Harry, wondering what he might say. Harry was about to open his mouth to answer and say no but Hagrid cut in.

"I have it in my coat pocket." Hagrid rummaged in his pocket, making Harry and Hermione wonder how many things were actually in there. He finally pulled out a silver key and gave it to the goblin. The goblin examined it for a moment and said,"Very well. Griphook, open Vault 219 and Vault 239."

They were led by another goblin who was named Griphook and they got into a cart. "Hold on," was the only thing that the goblin said before pushing a lever, making the cart go forward on high speed.

"Is there any chance yer could...lower the speed?" Hagrid said, who seemed like he was going to puke.

"No. This is the only speed."

And Hermione thought that the motorcycle ride was the worst. _Guess I was wrong._

They stopped in front of a vault that had a gold engraving. 'Vault 219' was engraved and when they opened it, Harry could see nothing but a something wrapped in white tracing paper, which was shaped in something like an oval. Hagrid took it and stowed it into one of his coat pockets. "Hagrid, what's that?"

"'Fraid I can't tell yer, Harry. Confidential."

Before Harry could say anything, the cart ride started again, this time to Vault 239. When they reached he vault, Griphook opened it and Hermione and Harry's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

Hermione was surprised - well, surprised didn't cover it, but she guessed she'd stick with that. "...Harry. You never told me you were rich."

**A/N: Sorry it's been a long time. I hope you enjoy it though. It'll really help with just one more review. And please, don't unfavorite and unfollow my story - but I won't force you. Anyway, sorry, and thank you for people who have taken the time to take a look at my story.**


	13. Harry's Day

**A/N: Sorry for the late update... It's been busy with exams... And plus...I've never been able to finish writing my chapters with my laptop restarting almost every time and the data gets deleted... Anyway...sorry. And I don't own Harry Potter.**

"Thought ye Mum and Dad would leave ye with nothin', did ye, Harry?" Hagrid said, nudging Harry lightly in the ribs. Harry winced slightly. Hagrid's definition of 'slightly' was definitely not meeting Harry's definition of 'slightly'. Of course, Hagrid's elbow _was_ big. Hagrid rummaged through his coat pocket, making Harry and Hermione wonder just how many things were there in his pocket. He must have found what he was looking for because he looked up, taking something from his pocket and giving it to Harry. "Now, put the money into ter pouch."

Harry did so, albeit hastily. The cart moved on after he took the money and the vault was closed. Hagrid, as before, looked like he was about to barf. "Hey, Hagrid?" Harry said.

Hagrid couldn't afford to open his mouth and speak, so he gave a slight nod.

"Well...I was wondering... Uh..well...what's the difference between stalagmites and stalectites...?"

Hermione, sometimes being the Know-It-All - all the time, actually - explained.

"...Seriously? You look like you're about to barf, and you can still _explain_? Always amusing, Hermione," Harry said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Hey, you asked," Hermione retorted.

"I asked Hagrid."

"...Well...maybe I am Hagrid...," Hermione said lamely, stuck by Harry's very true statement, but being stubborn, she refused to back down.

"I see... You have a beard?"

"Uh...yes."

"Where is it?"

"I...left it at home."

"Wow, Hermione, you really are dumb sometimes." Harry smirked.

"Like I said...maybe I am Hagrid." Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Are you?"

Hermione was stuck by that one. "Never mind that now. it doesn't matter if I'm Hagrid or Hermione."

Harry smirked, while Hermione grinned. Harry had always been a 'smirker', and Hermione had been those with the smiles and grins. But bloody hell, she does look nice with smirks. Both looked over at Hagrid, who was hunched over the cart. Griphook seemed oblivious to what was happening.

"Ew... Gross," Hermione said, looking at Hagrid as he puked.

"That's our food," Harry said.

"Yeah...but still...kinda disgusting."

Harry had to agree slightly.

* * *

"C'mon, second last stop." Hagrid, who was in the lead, motioned for them to move faster.

"Oh, Hagrid... You sound like those mothers who like to shop a lot," Hermione commented.

Hagrid ignored her comment. "Okay, we're here. Third last stop."

"Whatever happened to second last stop?" Harry said.

"To encourage yer," Hagrid said, grinning under his beard.

"Makes it all better...," Harry grumbled, and Hermione smirked.

They went into the shop and the noises of owls' wings fluttering and the hooting, cats' meowing and toads' croaking filled the air. "Now, ye want a toad, an owl or a cat?" Hagrid said to Harry.

"...Well...definitely not _cats_," Harry said, glaring at Hermione good-naturedly. Hermione flushed slightly.

"Well, sorry Toffee hates you."

"No. He doesn't hate me. I hate him."

"Well, he's not gonna be happy 'bout that."

Harry snorted. "Uh-huh."

Hagrid looked at the exchange between Harry and Hermione. _They fit well,_ Hagrid thought.

Harry walked around the shop, only looking at the owls. Toads were okay, cats were awesome, but perhaps Toffee lowered his love for felines. He walked past one tawny owl and could've sworn that it was angry. He saw an owl that was in a corner by itself and asked the owner's daughter who was around the same age as Harry working in the shop. "Um...excuse me, why's this owl all alone...?" Harry said, eyebrows drawn together.

"Oh...it doesn't like other animals. I suggest you don't go near it. It'll claw your eye out...literally," the girl said, shuddering slightly.

"Did you ever try to tame it?" Harry said, blood slightly boiling. Hermione and Hagrid had seen Harry's expressions on his face, and he looked like he was about to explode at any moment.

"I'm sorry, kid-"

"I'm eleven. That's not like a 'kid'. And you're like the same age as me." Harry said, feeling like facepalming himself. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

The girl blinked stupidly and stared at Harry blankly for a moment. Hermione had to stifle her smile and Hagrid had no problem stifling his smile. His beard was massive. "Uh...okay... What's your name?"

"Harry." He didn't even want to say his last name.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson." She smiled. Like those girls who think they're the prettiest and funniest. Those who think they can get any guy they want...or girl. Who knows? Never judge.

"All right, no introductions." Harry rolled his eyes once again. _So not gonna fall for that girl. She's the type that always did break people's heart and cheats on people... Eh...no offense. Why am I saying no offense?_

Pansy ignored his comment. "So...what's your name?"

"I told you already."

"Your last name, silly." Pansy rubbed Harry's arm.

He flinched slightly. Apparently Pansy didn't notice his flinch. Neither did Hermione. Because her smile fell.

_No, no, no. C'mon, why am I getting jealous? I'm not even his girlfriend. Plus, we're only eleven._ Hermione looked away, cheeks with a tint of red.

"Get your arm off me... Please," Harry said, feeling like he was about to die and explode... Or maybe explode and die. Either way.

But she didn't. _Ugh._ Instead, she tried to _flirt_. _Is she even as young as she looks?_ "Uh... Are you eleven?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Oh. Yeah. Would you like to go to that owl which is all alone in that corner?"

"No. It'll claw my face off."

_That's the point,_ he wanted to say. Instead, he said,"Okay. I'm just gonna go over to the owl." _Because it'll be better than talking to you._

"Okay. See you later." She winked. And walked off.

_Ugh... So not cool,_ Harry thought. Hermione's cheeks were as red as a tomato now. Hagrid didn't notice Hermione's cheeks. Well _that_ seemed almost _impossible_.

Harry stalked off to the owl and was not surprised that the owl didn't try to claw his face off. People misjudge. Or maybe the owl just doesn't like some people... Or most people.

He slowly reached for the owl and when it didn't try to peck his hand, he patted its snowy-like feathers. Just like snow.

Hagrid walked over to Harry and Hermione followed suit reluctantly. The snowy owl hooted and the owner rushed over to Harry, as if he did something wrong. "D-Did you just...just pat it?"

"...Um... Yeah."

"...How?"

"You guys don't give them a chance. But honestly, don't worry, uh... I'll buy it."

"Okay. You know, since you told me some - I must admit - pretty good advice, I'll give it to you. As a gift from me to you."

"Thanks." Harry was handed the snowy owl in a cage. He held it in front of his face and inspected it. It looked back at Harry with its yellow eyes, and its snowy feathers stood out. The others were all tawny, brown, some black and there were also grey. "I think I'll name it... Hedwig."

* * *

They went in.

"So it is Harry Potter."

Harry had made a little fit with Hagrid and Hermione, and Hermione kept rolling her eyes. And Harry couldn't fathom why her change of attitude. He made a fit because they were going into Mrs Palpkin's shop.

And so, yeah, Mrs Palpkin would say exactly that. "H-How'd you know?"

"Haha, don't need to be tense. I'm not mad at you for lying. I mean, I shouldn't have asked those before. I remember you. The emerald eyes, the hair, the glasses," Mrs Palpkin said, the sound of metal clinking against wood as she set her needle and thread on the wooden table.

"...Um... Thanks."

After he was done buying his Hogwarts robes, he thanked Mrs Palpkin and they left the shop.

"Ah, Mr Potter."

"Oh my effing-" Harry cut himself off before he could finish. He was startled for a moment and tried to calm his heart down before talking. "Sorry, Mr Ollivander. I just... It's a bit creepy how you just pop out from behind the desk."

"It's all right, Mr Potter. It feels as if it was just yesterday that your parents came in here. Both of them were always nice people."

They did what Hermione did. Except he tried more wands. But he didn't feel how Hermione felt. He knew that wands weren't just pieces of sticks. He knew that these wands weren't just...like what others think. They were more than just sticks. Hagrid had always carried Hedwig and when Harry finally found the right wand, a golden aura surrounded him, and he felt...complete. There was nothing else that could describe it.

And now he wondered why he'd been so stupid to had been against wizards and witches. And he thought he followed his motto that he always had: Never judge. Wow, he was wrong. He'd been judging the whole time by just one evil wizard.

Never judge, never judge.

**A/N: I'm really sorry for not updating soon. It's been stressful for not knowing my exam results. And thanks for the reviews before. And really sorry for some errors. Or maybe lots of errors. I won't force you guys to review, but it'd been a lot. And to guests who reviewed, thanks for taking the time. To all readers and those who checked out my story, thanks a lot. It means a lot to me. And sorry for the short chapter; I'm just eager to post it up.**


	14. Jealousy

**A/N: I apologise for any spelling mistakes, or some words left out. Sorry for late updates, too. This is by far the best story I ever wrote... But you might see that I only have **_**one**_** story. Kinda deleted the rest of the stories. Thanks for the support, and I'd like to thank Le Diablo Blanc2 personally. And also, to those who'd reviewed, favourited, and followed. Don't own Harry Potter. I do, however, own the plot. I've been dedicating this story to a really special bunch of friends. So Hansel, Feng Wei, Tze Siang, Yik Hong and Cheryl, whom Hansel pretended she was invisible on Teachers' Day, this one's for you guys. Pretty awesome people. Now, without further ado...**

Jealousy. Is it okay to be jealous over someone who's not your boyfriend or girlfriend? But it is okay to...be jealous over someone who's your crush...right..? Now, that was what Hermione Jean Granger had on her mind when they waved goodbye to Hagrid. The now familiar rumbling of Hagrid's motorcycle filled the air, and Hermione could see that Harry was checking if anyone was looking from the corner of her eye. Harry then looked back to the motorcycle, tightened his scarf around his neck while Hagrid was putting on his goggles for...maybe protecting his eyes from dust? _Way to go, Hermione. Then blinking's to protect our eyes from fire._ She really does question her intellect at times.

Girls. Some people don't really understand girls. Can't blame them. Why drop hints? Why not say it outright? Why the change of attitude? That was what Harry James Potter had on his mind as they both stood in the snow, waving goodbye to Hagrid. The rumbling had filled the air, and a puff of smoke came from the engine. The engine sputtered. And then, it rose into the air, and Hagrid's massive back shrank and shrank as he flew higher - and further away.

They still couldn't believe they met someone that size. Couldn't believe the flying motorcycle. Couldn't fathom how anyone _couldn't_ have seen the motorcycle flying into the sky. Even after he was gone, Harry looked up at the sky. Hermione was looking at the snow under her shoes. The sky was graying, white clouds replaced with gray ones, the sun being blocked partially now. "Hey, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up, albeit hesitantly. "What?" There was an edge to her voice. But Harry, not really understanding girls well, didn't have the slightest idea why. But that didn't mean he was stupid.

"...Um... Never mind."

"_What_, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, not really understanding why Hermione seemed angry. "Forget it." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and stalked off.

"No. No. You can't just bring stuff up and then say forget it." Hermione walked towards Harry quickly, grabbed and turned him by the shoulder sharply when she reached him.

Harry let out a huff, and his breath could be seen. "What, Hermione? I said forget it. It's worth nothing."

"If it's worth nothing, why the bloody hell did you bring it up?"

Harry flinched slightly with every word Hermione said. It was like blows to his stomach. "Look, if you're going to be all Hulk Hermione, I think I'll not answer you. Bye." Harry turned around and walked off without a glance.

Hermione stood there, jealousy dissipating slightly. _Slightly._

"Oh, and you know what, Hermione? I won't always be your knight in shining armour," Harry called, without looking back.

Knight in shining armour. Hermione moved to sit on the swing and her memories from the past came up. Harry's picture of his parents. His slow breathing when he slept. How adorable he looked at times. How caring he can be. How badass he was sometimes. How witty and sarcastic he can be. And today... The tickling. The way he looked at her with his emerald eyes. The way her breath hitched when he tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. Hermione broke out of her reverie, and her brown eyes were wide. She looked down at Harry's trunk full of things and Hedwig in a cage which he had left behind in the snow. If not for Hedwig's yellow eyes, Hermione could not have seen him. The only thing Harry had brought back with him was his wand, which had been poking out from his back pocket of his pants.

Hermione shook her head slightly, eyes still slightly wide. He'd been there. Even though they fought. Like... A lot. She hated how irrational she'd been. She then thought back to the girl. The black-haired girl who rubbed Harry's arm. Hermione's face flushed red and the jealousy came again. But how did she know Harry enjoyed it? _Well, he didn't exactly say "Get off!" and slap her arm away, did he?_ She then reconsidered. _But doing that would be rude._ She shook her head and another thought came into her mind. _He didn't bother to be polite at the bookshop before when I fought with him. He must really like her._ Hermione's cheeks was slightly green. Green with envy. And Hermione thought she wouldn't ever be envious over someone. Even more so, at such a young age. But nobody's too young for love, right? _Gosh, no love. We're just friends. Nothing else._ She stood up from the swing and walked over to Hedwig's cage. She wondered how Harry got the name. And why put that name?

He could've named it Charlotte, or Jessamine. Or some other name. Hedwig. It was a nice name, though. Hermione looked up at the sky. Dark. The sky was filled with stars, and there was a crescent moon, its pale moonlight glistening on her hair. She sighed and then decided to head home, wondering what would she get from her parents. And Harry. Harry was polite, he can be caring, he could love, but he wouldn't if people crossed the line. If people hadn't broken his limit, he would care, he would love, he would be polite. He is polite. He does love. He does care. Hermione's jealousy came back whenever she thought about the black-haired girl. She picked the cage up nd lugged Harry's trunk behind her. Boy, it was heavy. She had decided to do Harry a favour, considering she'd been so angry towards him. _And_ irrational. She lugged it behind her with one hand, the other holding Hedwig. The snowy bird chirped and tried to peck her hand. She dropped it and retracted her hand back, causing Hedwig's cage to drop to the ground that was blanketed in snow. "Ouch! That hurt, you know." She looked at the palm of her hand where it had bitten her and checked for blood or wounds or anything. Nothing. _Still hurt, though,_ Hermione thought. She reached down to pick up the cage and grumbled,"What did I ever do to you? I mean, Harry's done nothing too and you didn't peck him."

The snowy owl hooted and turned its head side to side, as if checking there was anyone around. It flapped its wings then, as if showing its own way of shrugging. "Uh-huh. You don't know. Great," Hermione mumbled, clearly slightly annoyed. But that was ridiculous. Angry at an owl? She then shook her head and walked off with the trunk being lugged behind her, Hedwig's cage in her hand which was stinging a bit. The weather was - luckily - not that cold, and Hermione was breathing hard by the time she reached the door of her parent's house. She put the cage on the snow-covered ground, stopped pulling the trunk and reached for the wooden doorknob. She turned it slowly. The lights were turned off in the living room, but the kitchen light was on. She gulped. She just had to be quiet. Maybe her parents had fallen asleep at the dining table while waiting for her. She smelled the little scent of coffee and thought. _I mean, coffee can't really make you stay up forever, right?_ She pulled the trunk behind her, and Hedwig's cage was being held by her slightly stinging hand.

She moved as quietly as possible after closing the door softly. As softly as possible. As swiftly as possible. But come on, the things were pretty heavy. The things _are_ pretty heavy, not were. She pulled, trying not to make the trunk rub against the wooden floor. She looked into the kitchen. Like she thought, they were asleep. She brought the cage and the trunk up the stairs, stopping once in a while. She felt like she was a burglar. Without the ransacking, of course. She went up and every once in a while she would climb down the stairs and check if her parents had woken up without making a sound. Even her breathing seemed to have stopped. But then a memory flashed in her mind. Harry. Parents. He tried to wake them up before. But they didn't wake up.. They were heavy sleepers. Then with that memory in tow, she brought the trunk and the cage up the stairs quickly. But softly. They were heavy sleepers all right, but heavy sleepers still gotta wake and have limits, don't they? She finally reached the door of her and Harry's bedroom and heaved a deep sigh of relief. "By the Angel, finally." She turned the doorknob slowly, wondering if Harry was asleep or awake, waiting for her. Before she pushed the door open, there was some talking inside.

"Mom, Dad... I'm sorry I blamed you. It's not your fault you died. It's just... It's been four years and-and I just... I'm _lost_. I've lost it, Dad, Mom. Now I've just turned into someone who's rude, insolent and uncaring. I wasn't all that. I don't know how to change back, that's all. I don't know how to just...live with myself. You sacrificed yourselves for me. I just-" the voice broke off. It was Harry's. Hermione could recognise it. But then, who else would it be? She pushed open the door slowly and Harry sensed the door opening, as always. He quickly took off his glasses and set it on the bedside table, being swift. The door opened completely just as he closed his eyes and turned the other side, back facing Hermione's bed. But he wasn't fast enough to put the picture he'd been holding of his parents back on the bedside table and was now clutching it tightly, pretending to sleep. Hermione looked around the room. Harry was sleeping. But she could've sworn she heard his voice. But maybe he was just 'fake-sleeping'. She didn't want to test him anyway; not now, at least. She then looked back at the trunk and cage and Harry took that moment to turn around in his bed in the same direction before Hermione had opened the door.

Hermione brought the objects in with her, sweat glistening on her forehead. Harry cracked one eye open slightly so as to not make it so obvious that he was not, in fact, actually sleeping. He hadn't been able to sleep - even if it was one in the morning. She chucked - well, not chucked, but something like chuck - the trunk beside Harry's bed and put Hedwig on the table. She looked at Harry. His breathing had become even. He was asleep. But she didn't know one thing about Harry. He was good at 'fake-sleeping'. And that was one of the perks of being... well... himself. He was pretty good at acting, if he might say so himself. Hermione then turned to the closet and took out a pink - _...Pink's all right, but I'd prefer green,_ Harry thought - pyjamas. She unbuckled her belt and slid her pants off. Harry then realised what was happening and thought, _By the Angel. I should_ really_ close my eyes right now._ But he didn't. He couldn't. _...I really don't want to be a pervert, eyes. _He opened his eyes wide. Hermione was facing the closet, so she couldn't see him. The jeans slid down and Harry could see her-

_Brain,_ please_. I really don't need to live with someone whose bottoms I'm going to see._ And he managed to close his eyes. Tightly. Hermione changed and then walked towards Harry's bed. She squatted down in front of Harry and faced him at eye level. She looked at him skeptically. She then decided he was asleep and she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. Harry's whole body stiffened and he could've sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment. His chest tightened and his heart ached, though he had no idea why. Hermione pulled back and stood up, putting distance between herself and Harry. She looked at the picture Harry had in his hands. She untangled the picture from Harry's slim fingers and looked at it. His parents. Harry's breath remained even and Hermione looked at the picture. He looked just like his father. But the eyes were his mother's. Those green emerald eyes. She set it on the bedside table and looked at Harry. "Night, Harry," she whispered, though the words could be heard in the silence. She then went to turn off the lights and went under her covers. She fell asleep soon enough after looking at Harry and marveling at how much he looked like his parents.

When Harry was sure she was asleep, he opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. "Night, Hermione."

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I'm not British, actually. So my Harry Potter's different. Anyway...criticism is welcome. And it's all right if no reviews are posted. Just wanna thank everybody for taking their time to read.**


	15. Reflections

**A/N: Don't own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. First of all, I wasn't expecting much response to my latest chapter, except for one certain mashpotato feng wei. Thanks, Feng Wei. Anyway, thanks for some. And I guess I would thank people for not un-following or un-favouriting. I don't have a beta, so I'm sorry for mistakes and stuff. And as always, this is for the special bunch of friends. Won't hold you up with my boring talk, like last chapter...**

It was the middle of the night. Well... not night, but morning. Three in the morning. Harry had woken up, and was now doing his habit of his. Staring out the window. There was always a reason for his every doing. He was hoping, that maybe, his parents would... come back flying on broomsticks - he knew that was ridiculous, but no one can really blame him, can they? Everything raced in his mind, here and there, memories scattered in his brains. His brain was like grasping for even the shortest moments with his parents. There was one year guilty graced his mother's features - all year. And they went to the grave once; his father showing him who died and all that. Harry had been intrigued by one particular grave. Someone with the last name "Peverell". Why was he attracted to that grave? There was a sign. He didn't understand it. But his father - James - understood. Harry was young - he was five, to be exact - but he could see the look on his father's face - it was full of realisation and understanding. James wasn't surprised, or intrigued by the symbol on the grave, and Harry knew that his father had known what the symbol meant, or represented. There was once, Harry, at five, when he was in his bedroom, he heard moaning coming from his parent's bedroom.

It was a weird thing. His father had been out. Harry was like no other baby. He could talk fluent English, proper English, unlike other babies who took a long time to talk. And when other babies talked, they talked gibberish. Except for 'dadda' or 'daddy.' Harry was the one when people rushed to see something exciting, he stayed back, waiting for the crowd to dissipate. When he found a coin, he'd ask around, unlike some people who'd just take it. When he had a crush, he wouldn't act all 'macho' and try to impress the girl. Or boy. He didn't know yet. But so far, he'd say he was straight. He wasn't one to judge. Other people do. He wasn't one to rush into things. He was patient, but sometimes he would be impatient when he was in a bad mood. He was one with logic, kindness, patience, intelligence and bravery. He never refused to back down. He was also witty and sarcastic at times. He was logical at times. And all those qualities made up Harry Potter. Harry James Potter. Just like his parents.

Life brought him down. He didn't back down and give up. He strived. To survive and to prove himself. He wasn't a coward. People knew that. Harry's words could sting. But most people see it the wrong way. It's not his words that sting. It was their own words that stung Harry. Saying he had no family, parents. Saying that his parents were selfish to leave him. Some people said he looked ugly - but did he care? No. He wouldn't snap at them or get offended. He only would if people insulted his family. His parents. His family name. Some people could say 'Potter' with such venom. There was a time when he was eight, Mr and Mrs Granger had taken he and Hermione to the Reptile Sanctuary. He talked to a... well... snake. Hermione, Mr and Mrs Granger had went off to buy ice creams, and Harry didn't really feel like having a cool, icy treat. It kind of reminded him of Lord Voldemort - Harry had read a book Hermione had bought at Diagon Alley when they went there the first time. It was about famous wizards and witches - either dead or alive. There was one that intrigued him. A headmaster. He couldn't remember of which school, though.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The thing that reminded Harry of him was the half-moon spectacles. And then there was one more. Gellert Grindelwald. Albus Dumbledore had fought him. Harry's mind flashed to the recent events. Why was Hermione like that? He thought back to Diagon Alley. Nothing. Then to Mr and Mrs Granger and him fighting. He'd been her knight in shining armour then. He shouldn't have cared. Ever since his parents were killed - murdered - he wasn't himself anymore. He'd become cold and hard. But inside... he was just... fragile. Like glass. Even more fragile than glass. One touch and he'll flinch. One touch and he'll break. His heart would break. His love would come. For the past four years he'd been progressing on his cold and hard and distant front. But who knew that such little thing could break his years' progress? Who knew, in just one second, all that he worked hard for, all he tried, it just may disappear?

Life wasn't easy. Life _isn't_ easy. It's a cruel, cruel world. It can make you hard and cold. It can make you seem like the Ice Queen or Ice King. With a heart like ice. Or with a heart like stone. Cold-blooded. Vile. Hostile. Evil. Voldemort. Harry was really wondering that nowadays he seemed to be the same as Lord Voldemort. With his cold and hard front, he seemed just like Voldemort, like killing people with his words and shouting. He was worried he'd disappoint his parents with his hostility. He was becoming bad. He could almost smell it. Like an apple rotting. Harry turned his head in a circle and looked back out the window. He didn't know what to do. Was he becoming like Voldemort? Was he hurting people who actually loved him? He had believed that the only people that would love him were his parents. He wanted them to be the only ones he allowed to love.

He felt as if hands were skirting along his memories as he tried to remember. Sometimes Harry questioned himself. If nobody cared for him at all, did he really exist? He'd gone through what no other child have gone. His parents were killed. Murdered. Yes, other children's parents may have been murdered, killed, but they weren't killed by Lord Voldemort himself. They didn't have to see the noseless face, the cold, pale skin. Or hear the merciless, cold, high-pitched voice. His memories came to the cat who saved him. People thought they were the fragile ones. But it was Harry. He'd always been the one who's more broken than glass, glass shards here and there, as if only two more shards pieced together. It was all mentally painful, sometimes physically. He was tired, he was exhausted, but wouldn't put down that cold facade. He had grown up a lot more four years after his parents had died. His true self was lingering somewhere near his heart, as if not yet reaching the... well, heart. It was the year 2013, but somehow the broom was called 'Nimbus 2000,' and Harry had no idea why. Perhaps it had come out later - by thirteen years. Harry had one thing that Mr Granger had bought for him; an iPhone. It was valuable, and expensive. Well, to Harry it is. Harry had insisted that Mr Granger need not buy him anything, but Mr Granger could be stubborn; Harry had found out then.

A song came to mind. A Muggle song that he'd always related to.

_It was February 14th, Valentine's Day_

_The roses came but they took you away_

_Tattooed on my arm is a charm to disarm all the harm, gotta keep myself calm, but the truth is you're gone_

It was weird how much he'd related. It was a song by The Script, a song he would always remember and never forget. If You Could See Me Now. Hermione's breathing was slow and even. The rise and fall of her chest. Harry could hear everything in that moment. Well, he could hear everything at every moment. It was whether people cared enough to listen out for things.

It was four by the time Hermione's eyes snapped open. Her brown eyes adjusted to the darkness and she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes gently. She looked and saw a figure in front of the window, looking out. Harry. Harry James Potter. He'd always amaze her. He was witty and sarcastic, sure, but he was adorable at times, though Harry would surely deny it if it was brought up. Harry was Harry, after all. Her jealousy came back slightly and she shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to be that irrational and envious. Hermione wasn't as much of a mystery as Harry was, but she still had secrets ever since her Aunt Mariam died - her favourite aunt. Aunt Jane was kind and caring, but Aunt Mariam understood. She understood everything. Harry reminded her of Aunt Mariam. Like Aunt Mariam came back from the dead, but in another body. Harry was the living embodiment of Aunt Mariam.

Unlike most boys, Harry didn't bother to hide his true feelings. He wasn't afraid to tell. And Hermione - strangely - like that. He was not those boys she'd normally met. Those - well, don't mind the language - assholes. Hermione's bushy hair blocked her line of sight and blew it out of the way. But the exhale of breath was like a gunshot in the silence. Hermione closed her eyes as Harry turned around hastily. Hermione wasn't asleep. Harry knew. He then stared out the window once again. Hermione slowly opened eyes, hoping Harry wasn't looking in her direction.

Damn her long, bushy brown hair. She really hated that sometimes. Well, most of the times, really. It wasn't hideous-looking, but still. Harry always wore a green shirt and jeans, and Hermione couldn't exactly fathom why. Her favourite colour had always been something around blue. She didn't exactly know. But she liked it because... well, it was Aunt Mariam's favourite colour. Green and blue. Does it fit?

No. Hermione couldn't like someone at such a young age. She couldn't. Just couldn't. Hermione looked at the clock that hung on the wall. Half past four. She'd always wondered how he could wake up so early.

She'd always wondered how many secrets he had, how much of a mystery he was.

Always.

**A/N: This chapter's really short, and I'm sorry. It's like eleven minutes past two in the morning from where I'm from. It's pretty tiring. Plenty of homework... Sorry for mistakes. Apparently someone rejected to be my beta. She wouldn't even want to be one if given the chance. Enjoy. I hope me not being British doesn't change anything... Criticism is welcome. I won't force any of you to favourite, follow, or review, but I'd appreciate it a lot. Thanks for taking the time to read. And sorry. For loads of things, really.**


	16. Emergency?

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. And I won't complain. And I'm afraid I kinda feel like pulling one person out of the group, and that person's the only female in the group, sadly... And I do not own anything that is in Harry Potter..**

A house that looked as if a short tower combined with a shack stood just up the hill. The Lovegood's house. And just below the hill was a house that was slanted, and looked as if it was supported by magic. Which probably was. The Burrow. Owned by a red-headed family. Every generation had red flaming hair and freckles. But not many were females. In fact, there were only two females in the Weasley family. Little Ginevra Molly Weasley and Molly Weasley (she has no middle name...well, the books and movies never mentioned it), mother of seven children and wife of Arthur Weasley. George and Fred Weasley - who might've been named after Molly's two brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, starting with the letters G and F - Ginevra Weasley (also known as Ginny Weasley), Charlie Weasley (who studies dragons in Romania), Bill Weasley (who works for the Gringotts bank, I think), Percy Weasley (third eldest) and Ronald Weasley (the second youngest).

Ronald Bilius Weasley was a pure-blood. Many pure-blood families think that the Weasley family was the biggest 'blood-traitor' there was. Some say they disgrace the pure-bloods. But would there be an existence of witches and wizards if pure-bloods only married those of their own blood status? Was it fair to treat people by their blood? It was night, and Ronald Bilius Weasley was n his bed, his mother - Molly - sitting beside his bed in an armchair. She held a book written by Beetle the Bard, a book named _The Tale of the Three Brothers_. And so she began, her voice mysterious to fit the story setting.

_"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at midnight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across.. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure._

_And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him._

_So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother._

_Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead._

_And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility._

_Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination._

_The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible._

_That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat._

_And so Death took the first brother for his own._

_Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him._

_Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her._

_And so Death took the second brother for his own._

_But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."_

Ronald - Ron, for short - had never thought much about the story, but it was interesting. He slept soon enough and Mrs Weasley kissed him on the forehead, though if he was awake, he would've made a fit, saying he wasn't a child. But he was, wasn't he? He was going to be eleven in two days. It was the 19th of August, ad his birthday was to be on the 21st. Mrs Weasley went down the steps, and into the kitchen. They had just had their dinner, and there was loads of cleaning to do. It wasn't like Molly minded. She likes to clean, and so people have said. Arthur Weasley was in their bedroom, sleeping. He was, like Mr and Mrs Granger, a heavy sleeper. Everybody in the Weasley family was a heavy sleeper.

* * *

It was seven in the morning. Harry hadn't slept since three. All he did was stared out the window. But that was what anyone would think if they just saw him. If his eyes were searched, you could see his soul. His eyes were open, as in showing the secrets. But now his eyes showed nothing but hardness and coldness (if there's such a word). His green eyes showed love and caring at some point, but just not now. He had been reflecting on his life, thinking. About what to do. When to do. How to do. How to live. How to forget. But he hadn't spent all night thinking about his parents. He'd spent thinking about Hermione too; the brown, bushy-haired girl with those spell-binding brown eyes. You could get lost in them. But if Harry liked her-

No. He couldn't like her. Not as a friend or a crush. Neither. Why open himself up to the world when all he'd get is the pain and disappointment he'd had when the murder occurred. When he'd seen his own mother dropped dead in front of him, how her scream pierced his eardrums, and how he'd wished so desperately that it was a dream. How new, hot tears fell down his cheeks at seeing his father's corpse. He'd always thought his parents would see him growing up. See their boy growing up. He'd always thought his parents would live and grow old, to show their love to his children when he'd get married. H'd thought they would even manage to live through life to see him get married. But now there wasn't going to be a marriage. He didn't want one. Those were fantasies. And fantasies never came true.

He'd not spent all the time thinking about Hermione and his parents, though. He'd read through nearly all the textbooks already, and he sure did know loads of spells. He'd memorised everything he read. He didn't grow up to have an eidetic memory, but he'd found out his own way of trying to have an eidetic memory. Oh, he tried, and he didn't fail. Unlike Adolf Hitler who'd killed himself. But Nazis believe in 'death before dishonor,' don't they? Harry got up, shadows - nearly purple - under his eyes. Yet he wasn't tired. He'd found out lots of stuff about the Wizarding World - famous witches and wizards, house-elves, pure-bloods, half-bloods, what Mudblood meant, Muggle-borns, Quidditch, beasts, plants, and loads of other stuff that he wouldn't care listing. He'd been disgusted at whoever thought that they were more superior than others just because of their blood status. He'd been disgusted and mortified that people would call Muggle-borns such horrid names.

Harry looked at the book on his bedside table. _Nicholas Flamel: The Alchemist._ He'd always lived in fantasy books, picturing. Harry decided to go for a shower, and so he did, dragging his feet slowly to the bathroom. He came back into the bedroom ten minutes later, feeling refreshed and awake, as though someone had tasered him. He sat on the side of his bed, looking at Hermione, whose bushy brown hair was strewn all over her face and the pillows. Hermione looked as if she had a nightmare. But he'd have heard it, wouldn't he? He looked at her lip, it was dry with a little bit of blood. He guessed she bit her lip so hard to stop herself from crying or screaming that it had drawn blood. She was sweating, her hands had been tangled up in the bed sheets and covers and she looked as though she'd ran through rose bushes, their thorns pricking her. He went down to take a rag from the kitchen, where he'd frozen at seeing Mr and Mrs Granger slumped over the kitchen table, snoring loudly, mugs of caffeine in their hands. He swiftly took a rag, not making a sound. He went up to the bathroom to wet the rag a little bit and ended up kneeling in front of Hermione. He swept the rag across her slightly plump and intoxicating-

Harry shook his head slightly. He sighed. Hermione was like a vixen or minx, even if she didn't know it. She drove him crazy sometimes, in a good way... If it made sense. He swiped the cool, wet rag across her lips, and when he pulled back, the rag was stained slightly red. He went to the bathroom to wash it and brought it to the kitchen. Upstairs, Hermione twitched and felt a cool sensation on her lips. Blood? She then brought a finger to it and pulled back; it wasn't stained with red a lot. It looked more like water mixed with blood. But why would there be water? And it certainly wasn't sweat or tears. Hermione's mind flashed to the nightmare. She coiled herself in a ball and wished for her mind not to remember the nightmare. It was just a nightmare, right? She had dreamt that her parents were killed by... Lord Voldemort. And she had pictured Voldemort as what Harry had described, but she didn't think that the one she had pictured was actually Lord Voldemort. She had pictured Voldemort's arms as twisted, and he had hair - white hair - and had eyes that were silver, and he just had no nose.

Yeah... definitely not really Voldemort.

She then heard the door open. A small figure came in, and she knew it was neither of her parents; it was Harry. For a young and small boy, he was actually strong, he was logical, he was... mature, unlike most boys she'd seen when walking through the streets. Some boys would whine and be a tattle tale, even if they looked twenty-one. He came in and Hermione sat up in her bed.

"Oh, Hermione. Good to see you awake," Harry greeted. "Great morning, isn't it?" His voice wasn't holding real enthusiasm, but Hermione couldn't tell. It was the twentieth of August. Just eleven more days (excluding twentieth of August) to the school year. Magical school year.

"Yes... I guess so, anyway."

"You okay?" Harry moved to sit beside Hermione on her bed.

"I should ask you the same question..."

"What d'you mean?"

"Your enthusiasm. You're never like this."

He was never like that. Though he knew it was true, he felt a pang of hurt in his chest. Never? "...W-What do you mean, never?"

"You're... Never mind. I'm okay, just little bit...sweaty, is all," she added.

_What was she going to say?_ Harry thought, distraught. "No, you're not okay. You...had a nightmare, didn't you?"

"...Uh... No," she said.

"Hermione. You can't lie to me. I'm like the... Detective of Nightmares."

"Detective of...Nightmares?" Hermione said softly. "I thought the nightmares...had gone. I don't hear you screaming..."

"...I don't care whether they died," Harry said hastily, getting up from the bed.

"Harry, I didn't-"

"I think it best you went to shower, don't you think?"

"I-"

"Just go," Harry said, an edge to his voice.

And she did. Her heart contracted slightly. She came back twenty minutes later to find Harry sitting on the floor cross-legged in front of Toffee, which was hissing as if like a snake. "Oh. I see you take ten more minutes than me to bathe," Harry said, not looking at Hermione.

"Um, yes."

"'Kay." And with that, the room grew silent.

* * *

Downstairs, Hermione's parents woke up, feeling groggy. Their mugs dropped to the ground, making Harry, Hermione and Mr and Mrs Granger to become alert, their senses heightened. The glass shards pierced into Mrs Granger's foot, and she screamed, making Harry scramble to stand up.

"Mrs Granger." Harry looked at Hermione with wide eyes and he ran for the door, wondering what had happened. He went down the stairs, taking three steps at a time. His face grew worried when he saw Mr Granger kneeling down in front of Mrs Granger's foot, and he seemed like he was at a loss of what to do. Both of them seemed at a loss of what to do.

Hermione ran down the steps and settled beside Harry. "Dad, what do we do?" she asked.

"Uh...w-we'll call the ambulance," Mr Granger said, panic growing inside him.

"No need. I think I have an idea," Harry said, walking briskly towards Mrs Granger and kneeling down.

**A/N: Thanks for all the follows and favourites. Anyway, no reviews that time, but oh well, I can't force you. I'd appreciate it if I had at least one. Sorry for the late update and mistakes.**


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